Season of the She Wolf
by Vivienne67
Summary: The Cullens and wolf packs are at peace, and Leah has begun to feel almost normal. When the half-vampire Nahuel returns and the unthinkable happens, Leah faces life-changing choices and a frightening, evil foe from Nahuel's past. Rated M for a reason.
1. Changes

**A/N: **This is my first fanfiction, so please by gentle. Thanks to GreatChemistry, JointGifts, McGee42 and solareclipse of Project Team Beta for great advice. Reviews are appreciated and as soon as I figure out how to do it, I'll respond to each individually. Thanks for reading!

Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight

Chapter 1 – Changes

**Leah**

Froth-flecked beer spewed out of Seth's mouth and nose, across the table and all over my new black silk blouse.

"Holy crap, Jake," Seth screeched. "That is awesome news!"

Beside him, Embry was trying not to laugh at the disgusted expression on my face as I pulled my sopping shirt away from my skin.

"Shit, Seth! When the hell are you going to grow up?" I growled at my brother. Twenty-one or not, if the kid couldn't keep beer in his mouth instead of spraying it all over, he had no business drinking.

Jacob and Embry were openly laughing at me now, and I couldn't really blame them. Seth's good humor was always infectious. Even my foul moods usually couldn't stand up in the face of his good humor.

"Oops! Sorry, Leah," Seth said, grabbing the damp paper napkin from under his beer mug and swabbing at my blouse. It was utterly useless. I slapped his hand away from my chest. The blouse was ruined.

Thanks to Jake's grand announcement–which had prompted Seth's beer-spitting episode–my night out with my pack brothers at our favorite watering hole in Port Angeles was ruined, too. While Seth and Embry were obviously thrilled with the bombshell our Alpha had just dropped, I was struggling to sort out my tangle of emotions.

Jake and Renesmee, his little half-vamp imprint, were getting married.

Seth left off pawing at my shirt and turned back to Jacob. "Seriously, though, man. I am so happy for you guys," he said. "And it will be great to have another Cullen family wedding. They really know how to throw a party."

Jake chuckled at Seth's enthusiasm. "Thanks. Glad you're looking forward to it. Gotta admit, I'm intimidated as hell at the idea of Alice planning everything. We want something small, simple and private, but you know Alice …"

"Jake, don't you think this is a little, well … soon?" The words were out of my mouth before I could snatch them back. Before I'd even really thought about them.

The grin fell away from Jake's face. Three pairs of chocolate brown eyes glared at me from around the table. As usual, I was raining on their parade.

I lowered my voice so that my words wouldn't carry beyond our table–not that anyone would be able to hear us in the crowded, smoke-filled, noisy bar. "I mean, she really is only seven years old, right?"

Jake had been putting up with my bullshit for a long time now. Of course, I wasn't nearly the bitch I'd been all those years ago when Seth and I joined Jake's pack to help defend Bella and her baby against Sam's death sentence. Leaving Sam's pack had freed me from the Sam-Emily-Leah pain-fest that I'd been living through at the time. Jake imprinting on Renesmee had resolved a lot of issues among the packs and their relationship with our resident vampire coven.

Still, after so long, I was beginning to think my _personal_ issues would probably never go away.

Time and mental distance had dulled the pain and eased the betrayal, but to this day, I couldn't manage more than a few minutes in Sam and Emily's gloriously happy presence. I skipped their wedding, of course. When both packs had gathered to celebrate the birth of the next generation of little Uley pups–a daughter five years ago and their son two years later–no power on earth could have made me attend.

Now, seven years after Renesmee's birth had changed everything for all of us, she was about to shake things up again by marrying Jacob. She was barely matured. She'd spent most of her short life hiding her rapid aging from the residents of Forks. Bella and Edward had home-schooled her and the only friends she had were her own vampire family and the wolves in Jake's pack.

Renesmee might be physically mature, but I wasn't convinced of her emotional maturity. I remembered being a young adult, and I sure as hell didn't know what I really wanted from life when I was her age−okay, when I was her _physical_ age. And I'd grown up in a pretty normal environment. From day one, nothing had been normal about Renesmee's life. How was she supposed to know what she wanted now, let alone what she would want in the future? Rushing into marriage with a love-sick Alpha dog sounded to me like the recipe for a lot of regrets later on in life.

"Leah, you know that Ness is an adult," Jake replied, drawing my attention back to our conversation. "She's been an adult for a while now. It's not like I'm robbing the cradle, here. I'm marrying the woman I love, the woman I've always loved."

"How'd you get Edward to agree, though? I gotta think he's not thrilled about this," Embry interjected.

Jake smirked. "Actually, the whole wedding thing was Edward's idea."

"No way!" Seth's mouth fell open so wide I was surprised his jaw didn't smack on the beer-stained wooden table. Embry's eyebrows were climbing into his hairline. I, however, had no trouble believing that Edward would insist Jake marry Renesmee.

"Of course he wants Jake to marry her," I sneered. "You don't think he'd allow Jake into his daughter's panties otherwise, do you?"

Jacob blushed crimson–or about as close as he could come to that shade given his normal coppery complexion. He was probably more angry than embarrassed by my comment. Thanks to the pack's mental connection, we all knew perfectly well that Jake wasn't getting an–had, in fact, _never_ gotten any. From _anyone_, let alone Edward and Bella's pampered, prized, half-human, half-vampire daughter.

There weren't many secrets in a wolf pack. That was one reason why I spent as little time in wolf form as possible. I hadn't phased in months.

"Not cool, Leah," he growled through clenched teeth. "It's not like I'm being forced into something I don't want to do. I've had no problem waiting for Ness to be ready for an adult relationship. No one else has the right to judge her or her parents for that, either. Least of all someone the Cullens have treated like family–or tried to."

I sighed, leaned back in my chair and took a long pull from my beer mug. The virtual merging of our pack with the Cullens' family had always been a bone of contention between Jake and me. I'd just never been able to accept how easily, quickly and completely Jacob and my pack brothers had given up their hatred of vampires. I mean, hating and fighting vampires was the reason our furry little brotherhood existed at all.

I also couldn't totally let go of my resentment for how the Cullens' presence in Forks had irrevocably changed the course of _my_ life–practically from the moment they'd arrived in town.

If the vampires had never come back here and set up house, Sam would never have phased in the first place. Would never have imprinted on Emily. Would never have left me. He'd still be mine. I'd still be a normal woman, possibly with a few kids by now.

Instead, I was a freak among freaks–the only female werewolf in the history of our tribe and a genetic dead end. Because of the Cullens, I'd lost Sam. There had been no one for me since. Meeting a guy and raising a family was pretty much impossible when you spent part of your time as a huge, shaggy she-wolf, didn't age and no longer had a period.

Yeah, it was hard not to resent the hell out of all of them, but especially Renesmee, who was on the verge of getting everything I'd wanted for myself. And getting it with my best–okay, _only_–friend.

Jake saw the change in my mood. "Look, guys," he said, turning to Embry and Seth, "I think Leah and I need to talk alone. Alpha-beta stuff, you know? Why don't we catch up tomorrow?"

Embry got the message immediately. "Okay, we'll see you tomorrow, Jake," he said, pulling Seth to his feet and pushing him toward the door.

Jake watched our pack brothers weave their way through the crowded bar to the exit. He touched his forehead in a mock salute when Seth turned to wave just before Embry pulled him out the door. Then he turned back to me with a wary expression.

"Look, I was pretty much expecting you wouldn't be totally cool with this," he said. "I realize this is going to change things for the whole pack–a lot."

I snorted at that understatement. "I want you to be happy as much as anyone, but this decision doesn't just affect you, you know; it affects us all. Why do you have to do this now? Why can't you wait for Renesmee to grow up a little bit more? Jake, she's seen so little of the outside world. Don't you think if she rushes into something this permanent−this _big_−that she may feel later that she missed out on something?"

Jake sighed and sat back in his seat. I could tell there was more to this. Something he was debating with himself whether or not to reveal right now. "Just spit it out, Jake," I snapped.

It wasn't like Jake to fidget, or to hold anything back from me. We were way beyond that–most of the time. He shifted uncomfortably on the wooden bar chair and then leaned toward me across the table. His voice lowered.

"The Cullens have been here a long time–nearly ten years," he said, his expression intense. I could see the worry hiding behind his eyes. "People have been talking for a while. Carlisle had to switch to a hospital in Port Angeles just to keep practicing medicine. Ness has been hiding for her whole life. Bella put off her own education until Ness was old enough for college. Now they're both ready to go to school. So am I."

He rested his folded arms on the table between us. His dark eyes were intense. "It's time for them to move on."

And here it was, the real bombshell he'd been saving for me.

"When they leave Forks, Renesmee and I are going with them," Jake said, watching my reaction carefully. Well, that was no surprise to me. I'd always known Jake would never allow himself to be separated from Renesmee.

"I've already talked to Seth and Embry about this a while ago," he continued.

Now _that_ was news. A tight knot twisted in the pit of my stomach, and a burning feeling moved up my body. When it reached my throat, I practically choked on my anger. My fists clenched and trembled beneath the table. So Jake had talked about leaving with everyone else in the pack before bringing it up with me, his beta? Why the fuck was I the last to know?

Jake didn't miss my reaction, but he plowed ahead, choosing to ignore my expression for the moment. "Neither one of them has an imprint, so they don't feel any need to stay here. They're going with us. They want to keep the pack, and our extended family, intact."

He gave me a moment to further process that before he continued. "So the only question is−are you coming too?"

It had the ring of an ultimatum–something that Jake should realize wouldn't go over well with me. I opened my mouth to speak, to tell him to fuck off, but he held up his hand, silencing me.

"Think about this, Leah," he said. "I mean really think about it. You know I'd be happy to have you with us. You've stood by me through a lot these last few years, and I couldn't have asked for a better beta."

His brows drew down over his deep-set eyes, and I could tell he didn't want to say what was coming next.

"But if the Cullens leave and you stay … Well, when the vampires are gone, things will go back to normal for any of the wolf pack that stays here." He reached out and gently laid his big hand on my arm. I stiffened, resenting his comfortable familiarity when he'd just dropped such a monumental bag of shit in my lap to deal with. "When the vampires are gone, the need for werewolves goes too, right?"

I don't know why I'd never thought of it myself, but I hadn't.

If the vampires were gone, the genetic switch that made us turn into big, shaggy wolves would turn off. We'd all stop phasing and start aging again.

And maybe, just maybe, I could go back to being normal, too.


	2. Waiting in the Wings

**A/N: **Thanks again to the awesomely insightful folks at Project Team Beta! Things are starting to heat up in this chapter, so just a reminder – this is rated "M" for a reason. Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Chapter 2 – Waiting in The Wings

I was burning, consumed with heat … delicious, sensual heat. Blazing hands roamed feverishly over my sweat-slicked body. Hot breath fanned against the base of my throat. A searing tongue delved lower, licking a slow, scorching line down the curve of my breast, lapping the sweat from my skin. When that tongue of fire lightly flicked my erect nipple, my whole body ignited.

Powerful hands gripped my hips, roughly pulling me into position beneath his searching flesh. I arched my back, spreading my legs as wide as I could. I craved it. Craved _him_. More than I had ever wanted anything.

He laughed − a low, velvety sound − and I knew he was about to give me what I was begging for. Hard, heavy and hot, he surged forward, filing me with a single, searing movement. Ecstasy.

Through the swell of visceral, animal pleasure ripping through my body, a single thought crystalized: _Nothing ever felt hot to me. _My eyes opened and locked on his, inches from my face.

They were bright, blazing red.

_That's when I fell for the leader of the pack … That's when I fell for the leader of the pack … That's when I fell for …_

I snapped awake.

"What. The. Fuck?"

Was I cursing my erotic dream, the ringing phone that just interrupted it, or my smart-ass kid brother who had programmed my phone to play the old Shangri-Las tune for Jake's ringtone? I couldn't say. I was too dazed and sleep-befuddled, my body still throbbing and tingling from the dream, to make sense of anything at the moment.

I snatched the phone off the nightstand, and squinted to focus on the glowing orange numbers on the clock. Four a.m.? Guilt. I hadn't talked to Jake since that night in Port Angeles more than a week ago. But I'd been thinking about what he had said. Really, I had.

"Yeah, boss, wassup?"

"Leah, I need you here immediately." His voice was shaking on the other end of the line, and I was instantly, totally alert. "I'm at the Cullens' place. How fast can you get here?"

"I'm at my mom's in La Push and I need to dress. There won't be any traffic at this time of morning, so … twenty minutes maybe," I replied. "Why? What's wrong? Should I wake Seth and bring him?"

"Let Seth sleep for now. God knows he's probably not going to be getting much of it in the near future. None of us will. I need you here now. On four feet. It'll be easier to explain everything if I'm in your head. Phase and get running." He disconnected the line without another word.

_Fuck,_ I thought again. It had been months since I'd phased. While I didn't mind spending time in wolf form, the silence in my head had been really nice these past months. And of course, as soon as I phased, Jake–not to mention any of my other pack brothers already in wolf form–was going to have a front-row seat at the sex show playing in my head right now. Because despite my worry over what was going on with Jake, that dream simply refused to let go and get the hell out of my head. Maybe a good dose of night air and a run through the forest would clear my head and chill out my over-heated body.

I scrambled out of bed, shedding my nightgown and now-sopping panties. Grabbing a pair of shorts and an old wife-beater of Seth's, I quickly strapped the clean clothes to my calf. I slipped quietly out of my room and padded past the door to Seth's bedroom. His loud snoring rattled the door and I briefly envied my brother his peaceful and profound sleep. In the kitchen, I scribbled a note of explanation for my mom and brother, and was out the door in less than two minutes.

Our house was pretty isolated on the outskirts of the rez. We didn't have any close neighbors to be appalled by my bare ass streaking to the tree line ten yards from our back door. From there, it was a straight shot through the forest to the Cullens' house.

As soon as I hit the cover of the woods, I phased.

SSW/SSW/SSW

My paws thudded a staccato beat on the forest trail. Around me, the trees and underbrush teemed with nocturnal life and my heightened senses drank it all in–the sound of a raccoon waddling back to its burrow, the earthy and not unpleasant scent of deer droppings in the underbrush, the tiny glowing eyes of the smallest forest creatures as they silently watched me pass. This was the part of wolf life I loved–the sense of connection with the woods and everything in them. Sometimes, it was almost enough to make up for all the costs of being a werewolf.

Tonight was one of those times. All the other pack members were asleep in human form, save Jake and me. Since I couldn't hear him either, I assumed Jake must not have phased yet,staying in human form in order to facilitate communication with the vampire members of our strange, extended family.

While the thoughts of my other pack brothers could still drive me to distraction, I didn't mind sharing Jake's thoughts nearly as much as I once had. His head was actually a pretty peaceful place to be these days. The angst that had always burdened him when he thought he was in love with Bella Swan was long gone.

If I had to put a name to Jake's perpetual state of mind since he imprinted on Renesmee, it would have to be "content." It seemed like removing all the pain, anger and jealousy from his soul had made room for his Alpha abilities to really bloom. Jake had become a good leader, an Alpha by birth-right rather than by virtue of having phased first, which was Sam's claim to the role.

Jake was an Alpha we followed because we _chose_ to, not because we were compelled to. Although he certainly had the ability to force submission from pack members, he'd never once exercised it. And he'd discovered another aspect of his Alpha power–he could, when he wanted to, shield his own thoughts or the thoughts of another pack member from others in the group. He hadn't shared this information with anyone else but me, but he'd used that ability more than once to shield me from others in the pack when I was going through a particularly rough time.

And thanks in large part to Jake's friendship, those bad times were a lot fewer and farther between than they'd been for years. I owed him—big time.

_Which is why I'm running through the forest at four a.m. heading to a houseful of leeches when I'd much rather be home in bed,_ I thought. Unfortunately, that thought led me right back into vivid memories of the dream I'd been having just before Jake's call woke me.

And of course, he picked that moment to phase and pop into my head, catching a full-color replay of the last few minutes of my sexy dream.

_Jesus, Leah! What the fuck? _

_Sorry, sorry, sorry! _I dodged a fallen tree trunk and catapulted over a small stream. _Be there in a few more minutes. Tell me what's going on. _Hoping he'd pretend he hadn't just caught all that.

Normally Jake wouldn't let me off so easy–none of them would. But my diversion worked instantly. His mind filled with images and memories of the past few hours, coming at me so quickly I had trouble making sense of them. I traced his projected memory thread back to its beginning.

_Nahuel is back? Why?_

I vaguely remembered the half-vampire, half-human from six years ago. Standing shoulder to shoulder with my pack brothers and a horde of non-vegetarian vampires, fully expecting a fight to the death with the Volturi, I'd been a little too distracted to really form any impression of the South American faux vamp and his full vampire aunt.

_That's what we're about to find out,_ Jake thought. _He's been in with the doc for a while now. He was pretty torn up when he first showed up. Lost a lot of blood. Carlisle has him on a drip, trying to kick his accelerated healing abilities into over-drive._

I caught an undercurrent of fear in Jake's thoughts. I didn't need the pack mind to tell me why Nahuel's injuries rattled him. If a hundred-fifty-year-old half vampire could get hurt, it meant Jake's barely matured imprint was vulnerable to injury too—something no one had ever been sure of before. Renesmee's durability was somewhere above a werewolf's but still less than a full vampire. No one had ever tested her limits, though, so she had no clue what those limits were. Now, Jake was getting an idea, albeit second-hand, and he didn't like it one bit.

_Where's his aunt? Huilen, was it? _I broke through the line of trees surrounding the Cullens' secluded mansion and crossed their broad lawn in half a dozen bounds, skidding to a stop in front of Jake. He was waiting for me by the front steps. Every window in the huge house was lit up, and light spilled from the open front door onto his bronze-tipped fur.

_Another question to ask him. _Jake turned his eyes toward the door just as Renesmee appeared there, carrying his cut-offs in her hands. She sprang lightly down the steps and went straight to him, resting her tiny hand on his huge shoulder. Her coppery hair tumbled in waves down her back. She wore a simple pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. She took after her mother when it came to her taste in fashion.

_She looks like a freaking supermodel without even trying._ Jake ignored my errant thought, turning his head to gently lay his huge forehead against hers. I felt a twinge of envy. I'd never seen a couple who appeared more at peace–or in tune–with each other. Who wouldn't feel at least a little bit envious?

After a moment of wordless communication with Jake, Renesmee turned her chocolate brown gaze on me.

"Hello, Leah," she said. "Thanks for coming so quickly." She turned back to Jacob. "Grandfather says Nahuel is stable enough to talk with us. Uncle Em and Dad are bringing him down to the living room. He started healing very quickly once he got some blood into his system. Grandfather thinks he'll feel a hundred percent better within the hour."

Renesmee glanced at me uncomfortably. Even knowing that the blood going into Nahuel's system was from Carlisle's stash of donated blood, I couldn't quite hide my shudder of disgust at the thought of anyone ingesting human blood. Jake rolled his huge black eyes.

_IV drip, _he reminded me. Oh yeah. That was just _so_ much better.

"Jake, Dad thinks it would be best if you phase to human form and join us in the house," Renesmee continued. "Leah should be able to hear everything from out here."

I knew what she wasn't saying. Her suggestion that I remain in wolf form was for my benefit. All the Cullens knew I'd never be comfortable sitting in their house, like I was visiting for afternoon tea. I'd feel more secure if I was outside in wolf form. It was still weird after all these years how accepting and accommodating they were of my hang ups. At lot more accepting than some of my pack brothers were …

Jake pondered for half a second. _That's actually not a bad idea, Leah. We don't know for sure that Nahuel is alone or not being followed. I'd feel a lot better knowing you're out here on patrol. You can run the perimeter and still hear what's going on in the house. If you have anything to add, Edward can translate for you._

I wasn't crazy about letting Jake walk in the house alone, in human form, with an unknown vampire-type in there. What if Nahuel found Jacob's blood as enticing as Renesmee did? She still bit him from time to time … whenever they were getting hot and heavy.

Jake growled at that last stray thought. Of course he knew I was aware of those times, but he'd really rather I try not to think about them … especially not when we were in the middle of a tense situation.

_Not sorry this time, Jake, _I thought back. _Renesmee's not venomous so it's no biggie when she noshes on you and what you two crazy kids do in your private time is NOT something I care to speculate on. But Nahuel IS venomous, and that means he's dangerous to you. Even if you are the big, bad Alpha dog._

Jake rolled his eyes at me again and just waited. I relented. _OK, you win._ I might give in but damned if I'd admit he was right_. I'll run patrol at the edge of hearing range._

He huffed once in agreement for Renesmee's benefit, before I spun on my heels and sprang toward the forest line. Behind me, I felt the surge of energy that meant Jake was phasing. I heard the rustling of clothes as he pulled on his cutoffs—Jake had no modesty around Renesmee these days.

Something was going on, that was for sure. Forks was hell and gone from South America, where Nahuel lived. He'd come a long way, in bad shape, to find the Cullens.

What the hell was up with him? And whatever it was, why was he here, dragging the Cullens—and my Alpha—into it?


	3. Sorrow

_**A/N: **__Wow, thanks to everyone who's reviewed and added this story to your favorites! I'm posting this chapter quickly because the awesomely talented, wonderful folks at Project Team Beta turned it around super-fast. Thanks so much to Evelyn and Aniseed for their great feedback and words of encouragement! I can't promise the next chapter will come so quickly. I've got to rework my story outline to see where things are going next as the story continues to evolve._

_As always, I do not own Twilight. If I DID, I'd have champagne and chocolate-dipped strawberries for breakfast every damn day of the week!_

Chapter 3 - Sorrow

**Jacob POV**

I watched Leah spring into the tree-line, her disapproval echoing in my head. I didn't waste time trying to pin down exactly what had her bloomers in a bunch. Besides being dragged out of a sexy dream at four a.m., that is. It was always something with Leah. Most of the time, it was better just to let her work things out on her own.

I needed to ignore her current snit and find my center of calm before I faced whatever crisis Nahuel had brought with him. Closing my eyes, I pulled my energy back into my core, shedding the extra bulk, fur and fangs of my wolf form in favor of the human shape that would allow me to sit comfortably in the Cullens' living room. Sure Esme loved me, but she'd still kick my ass if I left werewolf fur all over her furniture. The thought made me smirk.

I opened my eyes and reached toward Nessie for my cutoffs, not turning to her fully until I'd finished zipping up.

She was giving me _that _look, the one that made me feel like a slab of prime rib on the plate of a frat boy who'd been living off cold morning-after pizza and fast food burgers for an entire semester. I groaned.

"Not _now_. Do not give me that look now, when I'm about to walk into your grandparents' house and sit beside you and your parents and talk about God only knows what kind of life-and-death disaster with a vampire who would probably just love to get you into the sack," I pleaded. She flashed me a huge, toothy grin, and then sprang into my arms.

"It's your own fault, you know," she whispered in my ear. Her hot breath sent shivers through my abdomen, shivers that turned into heat as they moved south on my body. Her arms were locked around my neck, her legs around my waist. She began kissing her way from my neck up my jawline, heading for my mouth. "You keep phasing in front of me and dropping trou whenever you feel like it," she muttered between kisses. "How's a girl supposed to keep her thoughts pure with all that muscled manliness on such blatant display?"

I rolled my eyes. She had _such_ a screwed-up view of me as this sex god. It would have been funny—if it didn't make my whole body ache knowing she wanted me so much.

"Bella's going to drop the shields she has on both of us so we can communicate with Edward if we need to," I reminded her, crushing her to me. I loved how her warm, luscious body, that looked so small and fragile, easily endured my werewolf strength. "The last thing we need is your father going for my throat—or my balls—because my mind is on how your boobies look in that t-shirt."

Using a twelve-year-old's term for her tits broke the sexual tension between us, for now, and she laughed against my lips. Reluctantly, I set her back on her feet, pulled her arms from around my neck and gently pushed her back a step.

"Give him some credit, Jake," Nessie chided. "He's been really cool about us, much cooler than I ever expected he would be."

"I know," I replied, catching her hand and pulling her toward the stairs leading up to the front door. "I'm just stressed. I can't think of a _good_ reason for Nahuel to be here. The dude is obviously in trouble, but I can't help the way I feel … I really wish he hadn't come here. I just have this feeling that whatever it is he wants from us isn't going to be easy to give … or over anytime soon."

She said nothing, only giving my hand a gentle squeeze and walking in front of me up the steps. I tried very hard not to stare at her ass as she went in the door.

SSW/SSW/SSW

The Cullens were arranged throughout the huge living room like a paranormal still life, waiting in perfect silence and stillness for Edward, Emmett and Carlisle to bring Nahuel downstairs. The hush in the room was so palpable it almost felt like a sixth presence.

Alice sat in the far corner near the kitchen, probably hoping the physical distance from Nessie and me would allow her to see more clearly than if we were close by, blocking her visions. For now, Jasper hovered near her, but I was sure he'd move closer to Nahuel when our guest made his appearance in the living room.

Esme had arranged the furniture in the room to create a cozy, intimate seating area with plush leather sofas and four huge armchairs. She occupied one of the armchairs, and Rosalie sat quietly in another. For once, she didn't greet me with an insult. Christ, everyone was stressing, even Blondie.

Bella was sitting on one of the sofas and looked up with a welcoming smile when we entered the room. She scooted to the middle of the couch, patting the cushions on either side of her in invitation. Nessie dropped down on Bella's left, slipping her arm around her mother's waist in a quick hug. I took a seat on Bella's right.

"Hey, Bells," I murmured just low enough for her to hear. It didn't feel right to break the tense silence in the room just yet.

"Hey, Jake," she replied. "Everything okay? Edward and Em are bringing Nahuel down now." I didn't miss the undertone of warning in that simple statement. _Keep your head in the game and out of Nessie's drawers, Jake. No shields, now. You're an open book. Focus, focus, focus._

"We're cool," I told her. "Leah's out running the perimeter, so we'll know if anything comes near the house. I'll get Seth out here to take over in a couple of hours, after he's had time to wake up." Satisfied, Bella nodded and turned her gaze to the steps leading up to the second story.

I greeted Alice across the room. "Hey, pixie! You getting anything?"

She grimaced and shook her head. "I can't see anything, no matter how hard I look. It's just like with you and Nessie. I can't see past Nahuel."

A new scent drifted down the stairs, preceding its owner. I shook my head slightly, trying to wrap my mind around the fact that a heartbeat other than mine and Nessie's was in the room. I was used to hearing just ours whenever the whole family was together. This third drumming beat didn't fit. It didn't feel right for that sound to be here, in this house.

Emmett and Edward descended the stairs with Nahuel between them and Carlisle behind. Nahuel looked like fifty miles of bad road, even after getting the doc's treatment, some donated blood and a fresh set of clothes borrowed from Jasper. He looked like he could use the support Edward and Emmett were giving him, but I knew their hands under his arms weren't there just to keep him on his feet.

Emmett guided Nahuel to the chair farthest from Alice and stood beside it as Nahuel dropped limply onto the seat. Jasper crossed the room to take up a position next to Emmett. Neither was being subtle about their positioning as guards. Carlisle moved to stand behind Esme while Edward parked on the arm of the couch beside Nessie. Without a word, he bent over and pressed a kiss on top of her head and gently ruffled her curls.

I wondered how much he'd been able to get from Nahuel's mind already. Did he have details?

Edward casually turned his face away from me, then back—a subtle shake of the head. That was interesting. I'd have thought by now Edward would know pretty much everything Nahuel had to say. Was he blocking Edward somehow? Edward briefly raised his eyes to the ceiling before meeting my gaze again. _Yes_.

Carlisle broke into my chain of thought, addressing our uninvited guest. "Nahuel, I trust you're feeling better?" It wasn't really a question. The doc wouldn't have allowed this pow-wow to occur if he didn't think his patient was up to it.

"Yes, Dr. Cullen. Thank you for your care and your family's hospitality."

Like Leah, I didn't really remember that much about Nahuel from six years ago. I remembered being very grateful he had showed up to help us convince the Volturi to leave Nessie alone. I'd been even more grateful when he'd left. I hadn't liked the way he'd watched Nessie as if she was some bright, shiny trinket he couldn't wait to slip into his pocket. Luckily for him, he wasn't looking at her at all right now. Guess he had more on his mind …

"We are pleased to help you," Carlisle continued, always the spokesperson of the family. "I know I speak for us all when I say we feel indebted to you for your assistance with the Volturi. Can you tell us what happened to bring you to our home in such dire condition?"

Nahuel sank back into the armchair. His eyes, the color of polished teak, darted nervously around the room. He seemed to be weighing his words carefully.

"It was my pleasure to help you and your coven," he said. Carlisle's golden eyes widened minutely. His reaction was so subtle only someone who knew him well would catch it. He didn't like the word "coven" being applied to his family. "Now, it is my fervent hope that you will be able to assist me," Nahuel continued.

"Of course, we would like to help you," Jasper interjected in his smooth Texas drawl. "But it would be helpful to us if we first understood the nature of your problem."

Nahuel seemed to realize that Jasper hadn't really committed us to any action. He glanced around the room again and then nodded once, as if he'd come to some private decision.

"Huilen is dead," he said, his voice strained. The poor bastard looked like he was barely holding it together. Esme gasped and seemed about to stand. Carlisle's hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"We are truly saddened to hear that," the doc said. "What happened?"

"She died at the hands of my sire, Joham," Nahuel replied. "You may recall that he fancies himself something of a scientist, creating a master race. Apparently, he has decided it is time to advance his experiments."

He leaned slightly forward in his chair. He looked like hell—tired, depressed and weak. I'd never seen an immortal look so bad. Okay, maybe just one other time … an image of Edward, eyes hollow and burning, hovering over a hugely pregnant Bella, popped into my head. Edward's eyes flashed to me and narrowed slightly. _Sorry, man. Didn't mean to go there._

"He came for us in our home in the mountains," Nahuel continued. "It did not matter to him that I had already told him I wasn't interested in his experiments. Since I am the only male he has managed to sire in nearly two hundred years, apparently I am central to his … master plan."

"So what … he tried to use your aunt to force you to do what he wanted?" Emmett asked.

Nahuel swallowed hard, and then bent forward at the waist, dropping his head into his hands. His long fingers clawed at his hair. "No," he whispered. "Joham never even bothered to try to use her as leverage against me. He simply destroyed her in front of me, and I couldn't do anything to save her." A shudder wracked his body.

That was enough for Esme. In a flash, she was out of her chair and kneeling by Nahuel, one arm wrapped around his shoulders. As she gently stroked his hair, I was startled to realize it was short. What had happened to that long braid he was sporting six years ago?

No one spoke for a few minutes, waiting for Nahuel to pull himself together. When he straightened and gave Esme a weak smile, Jasper spoke again. "We don't understand. How was it that you were unable to help Huilen?"

"Joham has an … ability," Nahuel said, spitting the word as if it left a bad taste on his tongue. He looked at Edward. "He has a special talent, just as members of your coven have talents. He can paralyze a victim with his thoughts alone. That is how he slew Huilen, by paralyzing us both and then tearing her apart."

Esme made a choking sound. The rest of us were silent, digesting this bombshell.

"He also has help," Nahuel said, again addressing Jasper. "He has created an army for himself of half-vampires and full-vampire newborns. It's a small army, to be sure; but then, it doesn't _need_ to be large to get him what he wants."

While Nahuel told his story, Edward had kept silent. I knew he was trying to get some peep into Nahuel's head, apparently without success. His frustration crept into his voice. "And what _does_ Joham want?" he growled.

"Me," Nahuel said. Then he looked at Nessie. "And your daughter."

Every vampire in the room hissed in unison. Bella and Edward moved in tandem, putting their bodies between Renesmee and Nahuel.

"Wait. How does he even know Ness exists?" Emmett demanded.

Nahuel's eyes were agonized. "My aunt loved me very much," he choked out. "Before she died, she tried to bargain with my sire, never realizing it was my freedom that was at risk, not my life. I'm afraid she told him much about your coven before he ended her existence." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I am so sorry for her betrayal of your trust."

"But how did you get away from him …" Jasper began. The sound of the front door slamming open stopped him short.

The door bounced against the wall hard enough to shatter the glass in it. Leah stood in the doorway, eyes narrowed, fists clenched, chest heaving against her ripped and torn wife-beater. She looked like she was ready to break something, or someone.

_Great. We're in for it now._

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edward move his head minutely, nodding in agreement.

"So you came running _here_?" Leah snarled, taking a single step into the room. "You've exposed Jacob and Renesmee, the Cullens, our pack—_all_ of us—to this psycho! You lousy _coward_ …"

Everyone was looking at her now. She radiated fury. It rolled off her in waves like the heat ripple off a road baking in the summer sun. In the next instant, a surge of calm washed through the room, and I knew Jasper was reacting to Leah's anger, trying to defuse her before she really blew.

Big mistake. Knowing Leah, having her emotions manipulated would only piss her off more. Moving quickly, I rose from the couch and took a step toward her … and stopped short when I saw the expression on her face change. She didn't look calm, despite Jasper's efforts, but she no longer looked enraged, either.

From one heartbeat to the next, her eyes, her face, her whole _body_ altered. Her lips parted slightly as if she was about to gasp, but couldn't. Her eyes were wide open, pupils dilated, staring and almost glazed. Her hands, no longer fisted, hung limply at her sides. Her fingers twitched slightly as if she was having trouble controlling them.

_She looks like she swallowed a fucking toad! Why is she staring at me like that?_

Wait. Not at me. She was staring at something—or someone—behind me.

Turning my head slightly, I followed her gaze over my shoulder. Her eyes were locked on Nahuel, and he was totally staring back.

He looked almost as gob-smacked as she did. I whipped my eyes back to Leah.

_Oh. Fuck. Me!_

I could practically _hear_ each filament that bound Leah to her life, to all that she was, separate one after the other with a snap, like the far-off report of fire crackers on the Fourth of July. Pack, Seth, Sue … _me_ … Ping! Twang! Ping!

When she gasped, trying to gulp in a huge lungful of air, I knew she was struggling to breathe around the invisible, terrifying cable now clamped to the center of her chest. I watched the realization slam into her brain at warp speed: This unbreakable cable bound her to something totally unknown and alien.

My gut clenched; I knew _exactly_ what she was feeling in that moment.

I wished I could be happy for her. Instead, all I could think was how, when she finally surfaced from the life-altering chaos of this moment, Leah was going to resent the hell out of having her choices taken away from her. Again.

All of this took exactly five seconds. In the sixth second since Leah burst through the door, she disappeared right back out of it, leaving it open behind her. Everyone in the room stared after her in confusion.

Everyone except for me … and Edward.

I locked eyes with my future father-in-law, desperately needing someone to share my understanding of this moment. _She is sooo fucked._

"Completely," he agreed.

* * *

><p><em><strong>End Note:<strong> Well, there you have it kids – the imprinting scene. You knew it was coming, since this is a Leah/Nahuel story. Hopefully it lived up to your expectations. Now the question is, how will Leah react? Thanks for reading!_


	4. No Control

_**A/N:**__ This one's a bit longer. I had a lot of ground to cover. Leah's got a lot on her mind these days. Thanks again to all at Project Team Beta, especially Evelyn and MunkeeRajah, who beta'd this chapter._

_Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight. I own an over-active imagination and a little too much free time on my hands._

Chapter 4 – No Control

**Leah POV**

I ran the whole way back from the Cullens' house on two feet. In wolf form, the trip took ten minutes. As a human, it took more than an hour, even running flat-out as fast as I could. But I couldn't phase.

There was a small chance Jake didn't know yet why I'd run out. I needed to get my own mind wrapped around what had just happened before I could talk to anyone else about it, even Jake.

I walked into the house to find Mom at the kitchen sink, shoving scraps into the garbage disposal. Seth sat at the breakfast table, working through half a hog's worth of bacon and an Everest-sized mound of scrambled eggs. They both looked up at me, stunned. I was covered in dirt and sweat.

I must have looked as bad as I felt because Seth jumped to his feet. He rounded the table in two strides and grabbed my arm as if he thought I was going to fall over. "Oh my God, Leah! What happened to you? Jake called to say you were on your way home, but that was over an hour ago, and he didn't want to say anything more on the phone. Where were you?"

I shook him off and gave him a quick elbow to the gut to get him to back away. I _so_ did not want to be touched right now.

"Nahuel's back," I said, relieved when my voice didn't shake or catch on that name. "Jake's going to need everyone to run extra patrols. There's a shit storm on the way. Maybe you should head over to the leeches' nest. I'm sure Jake's still there. He can fill you in."

I pushed him out of my way and risked a quick glance at my mom. Hands on hips, squinting like she was trying to read a pill bottle without her glasses—no, she was not fooled. She always knew when I was hiding something. I needed to be alone. I needed them both out of the house, but how to get rid of them? Today was Saturday, so neither of them had to work.

"Leah, what are you hiding?" Mom demanded. "Why can't _you_ tell Seth what's going on?"

I snapped at her, trying to sound like the normal, bitchy old Leah they expected me to be. "I don't have time for this. Neither do you. Don't you have a date with Charlie? If you blow him off one more time, you can kiss that relationship good-bye, don't you think?"

She flinched. Things hadn't been going that great lately between Mom and Bella's chief-of-police father. Because of Seth and me, she had to hide too much of her life from Charlie and he knew it. It was putting a major strain on their relationship. Personally, I thought Mom should dump his self-deluding ass. After six years, he still didn't want to know the truth about his own family and stubbornly turned a blind eye to all the weird stuff that went on around him. This afternoon's fishing trip was supposed to help Mom and Charlie "recapture the romance." Of course, only Charlie Swan would associate fishing with romance.

Relieved that my diversion worked, but still feeling like shit for playing hardball with my mom, I spun on my heel and headed down the hall. "Seth, get your ass over to the Cullens' house and talk to Jake," I ordered over my shoulder. "I'm going to take a shower."

The shaking and sobbing didn't start until I was alone under the spray.

Scalding water hammered my body as I stood staring at my feet, my forehead and palms pressed hard against the slick shower wall. Slowly, I pushed away from the tile, then swiftly smacked my forehead back against the wall. Push back, smack. Push back, smack. I fell into a comforting, self-abusing rhythm.

If I hit my head long enough and hard enough, maybe I could bash the image of those questioning, teak-toned eyes right out of my mind.

It didn't take long to exhaust our antique water heater. I didn't care. I continued to stand under the cold spray, my head pressed to the wall. I watched the beads of water beat the forest's black soil from my toes and carry it down the drain.

If only I could wash away the past few hours of my life as easily as that dirt.

SSW/SSW/SSW

By the time I'd pulled myself back together and put on some clothes more than an hour after arriving home, the house was quiet. My head, however, was not.

For everyone else in both packs, imprinting had been an explosion of bliss and completion. Jake, Quil, even Sam, were utterly, nauseatingly in love with their imprints from the moment that damned psychic cable latched on to the center of their chests. So why was this so hard for me?

I knew the answer. Nothing was ever easy for me.

My imprint wasn't someone else from my tribe with whom I could share common ground and experiences. Even Jake and Quil, imprinting on infants, drew a better hand than I'd been dealt. Their imprints had been clean slates with no histories or regrets of their own. The only thing I knew for sure about Nahuel was that he'd already lived the equivalent of two human lifetimes. I knew nothing about how his century and a half of experiences had shaped him as a person.

I had only a vague idea of where he was from, and none whatsoever of how he'd spent the first hundred or so years of his life. I didn't know how he lived, if he'd killed people for their blood or lived a "vegetarian" lifestyle like the Cullens. Had he ever had a job? Seen the world? Eaten a cheeseburger? Been in love?

Hell, I couldn't even picture what he really looked like. Whenever I tried to envision his face, all I could see were blazing, honey-brown eyes. Those eyes … just thinking about them was enough to make my heart race, and blood pool and tingle in body parts that I hadn't thought about very much in the past six years. My head and heart might be afraid of Nahuel, but my body definitely was not.

I headed for the kitchen, hoping the human Hoover hadn't sucked down every last bit of bacon. Not that I had any appetite, but I knew my body needed nourishment to help deal with the emotional turmoil I was going through. If I chewed a hundred times and swallowed quickly, maybe the bacon would actually make it past the bowling-ball sized knot hovering between my throat and my stomach.

I stepped into the kitchen to find that, although Seth and Mom were gone, I was not alone.

Jake sat at our kitchen table with a cup of joe and a bakery bag from my favorite coffee shop in front of him. He'd added a black T-shirt and running shoes to the cut-offs he'd been wearing earlier.

He gazed at me wordlessly, his eyes soft and dark, sweet and comforting. Like a fucking Hostess cupcake.

Shakes chased each other up my arms and down my legs. When the tremors reached my knees, they sucked all the strength out of the damn things. I staggered two steps to the table and flopped down in the chair across from Jake.

_He knows. Shit! Of course he knows …_

"Who _else_ knows?" I snarled, gripping the edge of the table. I wasn't sure what I would do with my hands if I let go—hug him or strangle him. I couldn't risk doing either.

He studied me for a few moments with those damned puppy dog eyes. Then, he leaned forward and pushed the coffee toward me. He produced a grapefruit-sized chocolate chip muffin from the bag and placed it in front of me.

"Just me …" he said. _Well, thank heaven for small favors. _"_… _and Edward."

_I am SUCH a moron._ Of course the mind-reader would know I'd imprinted. After all, he'd had a ring-side seat for the big event, hadn't he? "Will he keep his mouth shut?"

Annoyance slipped into Jake's expression. "You know, he doesn't _want_ to be a psychic peeping Tom. He really does his best to respect people's privacy." Never thought I'd live to see the day when Jake would defend his former rival. But then, I'd also never thought I'd live to see _any_ day like this one.

Jake's anger was fleeting. Suddenly, he was gentle again. "Leah, what are you going to do?" He sounded as if he thought I actually had some say in what was going to happen to my life now.

I sighed and reached for the coffee, popped off the lid and took a long pull of the scorching liquid. "Damned if I know," I replied. "What _can_ I do? Do I have _any_ choices left anymore?"

"There are always choices in life," Jake said. "Even when there aren't any choices that you think you can live with." Just what I needed—Jake going "Yoda" on me.

"But there has to be a reason this happened," he continued, reaching across the table to grab my hand. On any other day, I'd have slapped him away. I guess it speaks to how shaky I was that I allowed him to hold my hand. "Have you considered that maybe this is a good thing?"

I pulled my hand out of his and gripped the table edge again, because now I was sure: if I let go, I was going to choke the life out of him. "No, Jake. This may totally surprise you, but I'm really having a hard time finding the silver lining in having my entire life turned upside-down by an uncontrollable biological imperative. Again."

Jake's lips pressed into a firm line. He drummed his fingers on the table for a moment, then barked one word: "Sam."

Startled, I blinked rapidly for ten seconds. "Huh?" I replied eloquently. "What the hell does Sam have to do with this?"

He grinned widely. "Exactly. Think about Sam. What do you feel?"

I considered his command. How did I feel? Confused, cornered, frustrated, frightened … about my situation, about _him_. But about Sam? I was shocked to discover I really didn't feel anything at all.

For years, I'd carried around a hard lump of anger, resentment and betrayal. It had festered in the hole where my heart had been, slowly poisoning my whole system. In time, I'd learned to cope with the debilitating effects of my self-poisoning anger. I wasn't well, wasn't a full person anymore, but at least I wasn't crippled, either.

Now, like a boil that had finally been drained, the lump had deflated, leaving no wound in its place. Stunned, I realized I felt whole for the first time in years. Scared shitless, yes, but _whole_.

Damned if I was going to give Jake the satisfaction of admitting my Sam problem seemed to be cured. Because right now all I could think was that the "cure" was, in its own way, just as bad as the problem had been.

"You know it doesn't even make sense for me to imprint. I mean, what's the point?"

Confusion replaced his smug self-satisfaction. "I'm not following you."

"The whole point of imprinting is the genetic preservation of the species, right?"

"That's Sam and Carlisle's theory," he agreed.

"Okay, if that's the case, then what good does it do to have a genetic dead-end, a woman who's not capable of having little wolf-gene-carrying babies, imprint?" I demanded. "Not to mention, having her imprint on a man whose DNA is so totally different from hers that they probably couldn't procreate even if the woman's plumbing actually did work? Carlisle tested me, remember?"

The gentle look was back in his eyes and I had to bite my tongue not to start bawling again. _It really is Armageddon of biblical proportions. Jake gets all sweet and sappy on me, and I fall apart. Mental gag!_

"Carlisle's tests could be wrong," he said. "Maybe your … plumbing … hasn't worked because it hasn't needed to. Maybe this is a second chance to get something you thought you couldn't have." His words conjured up another conversation, one from six years ago, about plumbing, imprinting and wanting most what you knew you could never have.

I scrubbed hard at my eyes. I suddenly felt like I needed to go back to bed and sleep for about sixty years. "I don't know," I conceded. "And I just can't think about it now. _We_ can't think about it right now. Joham is coming here, isn't he?"

He sighed, stood up from the table and began pacing, his long legs eating up the tiny kitchen's scarce floor space in just a few strides.

"Yeah, that seems the most probable course of action for him," Jake said, snapping into Alpha mode. "He wants Ness and Nahuel for his breeding program, and they're here. So he'll be here too, eventually. I sent Seth to run guard duty around the house. He, Jasper and Emmett will keep things locked down until we can set up a patrol schedule with our pack and Sam's guys."

I worked on my coffee and muffin while Jake paced the kitchen and filled me in on what I'd missed after fleeing the Cullens' house like a tail-stomped cat. Nahuel had supplied more details, including how he'd escaped from Joham. That part of the story bothered me, because it required us to believe that one of his half-sisters had taken pity on him and helped him get away when Joham was off hunting in a neighboring village. Jake seemed to buy it, however.

One thing was clear from Nahuel's tale: Joham had no regard at all for human life. He envisioned himself as the father of a master race. The human women he'd impregnated were nothing more than cattle to him, their half-breed children just a means to an end. He didn't have much regard for other vampires either it seemed, since he'd killed Huilen without hesitation.

I remembered how I'd felt when my dad died. Lost and alone, orphaned even though I still had my mother. How much worse must it be for Nahuel? He'd witnessed the brutal murder of the only parent he'd ever known. No wonder he was a mess. I felt guilty for calling him a coward.

"After Nahuel calmed down, Edward was able to read him," Jake said. "Seems that he wasn't intentionally blocking Edward. He was just so rattled that he was thinking in his mother's native language, which is, apparently, one of the few Edward actually doesn't know. Between the unknown language and the chaos in Nahuel's mind, Edward was having trouble reading him."

Of course, Carlisle and Jake had committed the Cullens and our wolf pack to protecting Nahuel and Renesmee from Joham. Jake had talked to Sam already, and Sam had pledged his pack's help and protection, too. Everyone seemed confident Joham would come to Forks, and I had to agree. Unfortunately, Alice's inability to see around half-vamps like Nahuel, and any of his sisters who might be working with Joham, was severely hindering our ability to plan for his arrival.

"If Alice can find a big enough blank spot in her visions, then that's most likely when Joham's army will arrive," Jake said. "She won't be able to see how many are coming, or what their plans are, but at least she might be able to figure out when to expect them."

"Makes sense," I agreed. The morning's shock was beginning to settle into a comfortable numbness. I wasn't great, but at least I felt more functional. Until Jake threw his next thunder bolt.

"We need to hide Nahuel somewhere while we wait," he said. He paused for a moment, studying me. I still sat at the kitchen table, while Jake leaned against the counter, arms folded over his massive chest. "I want to hide him here, on the res."

They say the blood drains out of your head just before it explodes.

"This is the safest way for everyone," Jake hurried to explain, seeing my stunned expression. "There are more than enough of us here to protect him, and it keeps him separated from Nessie. It would be stupid to make it easy for Joham by having both of them in the same spot. I'll be staying with the Cullens and Ness until this is resolved, and Sam and Emily have the kids, so they're out of the question …"

"Bring him here."

_What? 'Bring him here?' Did I say that? Out loud?_

"Are you sure, Leah?" Jake sounded as stunned as I felt.

_Yeah, I guess that did come out aloud._

"That _would_ be the best solution, to have him right here where you and Seth can keep an eye on him," he continued. "And he would blend in better here than in Forks, even if we did have somewhere there to stash him."

The thought of having _him _in my home made my gut twist into knots. The only thing worse than having him in my face twenty-four-seven would be not seeing him at all. Not knowing if he was safe or afraid or alone …

I moaned when I realized the direction my thoughts were taking, and dropped my head onto the table.

"Forget it," Jake said instantly. "I'll think of something else."

I lifted my head and pinned him with a glare. "No," I growled. "If he's going to have to hide, then I need it to be here."

Jake thought about it for a moment more, drumming his meaty fingers on the countertop. "Okay," he finally agreed. "I'll bring him tonight, after you've had some time to tell Seth and Sue that he'll be staying here."

He strode toward the front door and I dragged myself out of the chair to follow him. At the door, he paused with his hand on the knob, looking down at his feet. "_Are_ you going to tell them? I mean, about … imprinting?"

I didn't even have to think about my answer. "No. I need time to figure this out on my own, and I won't be able to do that with my family poking their noses into this. Can you shield me from the pack? I can't deal with them right now either."

He nodded. "No problem. It's going to be okay, Leah," he said, still not looking at me. "I don't know how I know that, but I do."

I blew a weary breath through my teeth. "Yeah, well, I hope you're right."

Then, because I needed to ask, and no one else but Jake would have any idea of the answer … "Do you think he knows?"

Jake lifted his eyes to meet mine. He didn't need to ask what I meant.

"Ness did," he said, "before she was even born. So, yeah, I think he probably knows."

He opened the door and stepped out onto our rickety front porch. "He just may not realize _what_ he knows. Not yet."

_**End Note: **__If you've read this far, I've got to be doing something right. Or maybe you're sticking with me because I'm doing something terribly wrong and it's pissing you off. Either way, please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!_


	5. Nothing to be Desired

_**A/N:**__ Thanks again to my shiny new permanent betas, Evelyn and MunkeeRajah. I'm such a lucky gal to have found them. They complete me!_

_Stephanie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I, however, do own the heart of a good man, and what more can a woman ask for, really? Wonder if Leah will learn that lesson any time soon._

Chapter 5 – Nothing to be Desired

**Leah POV**

My plan to hide my imprinting from Mom died a quick but painful death.

After Jake left, I did wind up going back to bed. I figured I deserved a good cry and some depression napping, totally girly indulgences I that rarely allowed myself. Like most things in my life, however, I didn't have the patience for an extended pity party.

I was back up again in a few hours, with nothing to do but pace the house, worry and agonize over what I was going to say to my mom and Seth when they got home. Oh, and try _not_ to think about who would be arriving on our doorstep later in the day.

I knew I would have to deal with my imprint sooner or later. I was hoping for later—much later. I'm not a multi-tasker, and I figured I needed to focus on one worrisome confrontation at a time or my brain would melt.

Normally, when I'm trying to turn off my tendency toward self-demoralizing introspection, I work out. But I didn't want to leave the house and risk missing my family's return. So I opted for some extreme house-cleaning instead. After all, we were expecting an extended-stay guest shortly.

I had just finished cleaning behind all the appliances and was pushing the refrigerator back into place when Mom walked in the door.

"Leah, what are you doing?" she asked, looking like she'd just discovered a tribe of wolf-riding elves in her kitchen. Really, I didn't know why she sounded so bewildered. I was a notorious neat freak.

"Cleaning," I grunted, giving the ancient dented Frigidaire a final hip-thrust into place.

Mom looked around the kitchen, which, I was proud to say, looked better than it had it years. Every appliance gleamed—as much as possible considering their advanced ages—and every surface was so clean you could eat off the one of your choice.

The look on her face told me I'd just seriously jeopardized my whole "hide the imprinting" plan. She knew I resorted to physical activity whenever I was trying to avoid thinking about something.

"All right, enough," she said, tossing her purse and keys on the kitchen table. She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at me. "I want you to tell me what's going on. Right now. What happened at the Cullens' house this morning?"

I scrubbed my forearm across my brow, wiping away sweat before it ran into my eyes. "I told you what happened, Mom. Nahuel is back and in trouble. The pack and the vamps are all on alert right now." Hoping my voice wouldn't quaver too much, I quickly sketched in the details of Nahuel's confrontation with his sire, the murder of his aunt, and his escape and subsequent arrival in Forks.

"Yeah, I know all that," she said, rounding the table to stand in front of me. "Seth called my cell after he talked with Jacob." My mother was much shorter than me, and had to bend her neck backward to look up at me. "Something is up with _you._ What aren't you telling me?"

"Jake wants to hide Nahuel on the res, and we thought it would be best to hide him here. With us," I replied, hoping that half the truth would be enough to satisfy her. For a moment, it looked like my diversion might have worked. Until she started asking all the logical questions I should have realized she would ask, if my head were on straight right now.

"_Here?_ In our house? Why would you think I'd agree to that?" she demanded. "Why would _you_ agree to it? You hate everything to do with vampires."

I hesitated. Just half a second. And that's all it took for my incredibly insightful mother. She latched on to that pause for breath like a Rottweiler with a Chihuahua in its teeth.

"You _are_ hiding something. Something about this vampire." I could see the wheels turning in her head. She mentally shifted around pieces of information and speculation like a puzzle, shaping a picture out of what little she knew and what she suspected.

"Jake must be helping you," she continued. "Why would he help you hide something from the elders?"

"We're not, Mom," I countered, eager to point her away from the truth she was approaching in rapidly constricting circles. "Jake's talking to the other elders and I'm telling you now. We're not hiding anything from you. We just need a safe place to stash Nahuel. He's got the Cullens and Renesmee mixed up in his problems, and that means Jake's mixed up in it too."

Again, she looked like she might be buying it. If I'd stopped there, instead of continuing with my blather, I might have gotten away with it. But of course, my brain-to-mouth filter has never been very effective, and I just had to keep going.

"You know Jake; if it threatens his imprint he'll do just about anything …"

My verbal diarrhea trickled to a halt. Mom was staring me with absolute, undisguised horror on her face. _Fuck me and my big, fat, hairy mouth._

She took another step toward me and grabbed me by the arms. "Is that what you're hiding, Leah?" she whispered. "Have you _imprinted_ on this vampire?" My stomach plummeted to my kneecaps.

"Half-vampire," I corrected her, pulling away and leaning back against the refrigerator. I didn't know what else to say, so I simply waited, watching while she processed all the implications of her realization. _I probably looked just as shell_-s_hocked a few hours ago,_ I thought.

"That's why you want to let him stay here, isn't it?" she asked. She's not usually the hand-wringing type, but since I'd pulled out of her grasp, she apparently needed something to do with her hands. I watched my normally unflappable mother clasp her hands together and begin twisting her fingers over her knuckles in frantic little circles. "You want to keep him nearby. You _need_ to be near him. Isn't that how the imprinting works?"

"That's what Jake tells me," I replied, trying to make my tone sound light and unconcerned. And failing miserably. I watched her clench and twist her fingers for another moment, then reached out and took her hands in both of mine. I gently drew her toward the kitchen table and pressed her down into a chair.

"Look Mom, I'm not going to let this stand in the way of my duty to the pack, or to you and Seth," I tried to reassure her. "I know my priority has to be the protection of our tribe and our family. I will keep you safe and protect our home. This isn't going to change anything for me."

She looked at me like I'd grown a second head. "This changes _everything. _You're just going to make yourself miserable if you try to deny that. This isn't something you can ignore or make go away."

"I know that, too," I growled, dropping down into the chair opposite hers. I didn't want to talk about this right now, not even with her, and here she was bringing up all the same questions I'd been asking myself for the past several hours. And I still had no answers for either of us.

"Have you talked to him yet?"

"No. I didn't exactly stick around long enough to chat with him when it happened. I was kind of freaked out."

That drew a small smile out of her. "I'll bet," she replied. Then, echoing the conversation I'd had with Jacob just a few hours before, "What are you going to do?"

I looked away from her eyes, and pretended to brush imaginary crumbs off the table. Now that she knew the truth, I might as well be completely honest with her.

"I really don't know. It's not like I can jump into some kind of relationship with him. I don't even know him. But I just can't deal with not knowing where he is or if he's being protected. I need him to be here, with me. If he has to hide, if he's going to be in danger no matter what we do, at least I'll be there, too."

When I looked back up, her beautiful dark eyes were swimming with tears and her hands were battling on the table in front of her again. A tight pain seized the base of my throat. "Jeez, Mom, don't," I choked out.

"I'm sorry, Leah," she said quietly. "I can't imagine what this must be like for you. I won't lie and say I can be happy about this, or even okay with it. And I think you should deal with this rather than try to avoid it like you seem to be doing."

I opened my mouth to object, but she stopped me with a look. "You are avoiding it. That's what you do when you feel like you can't control a situation." She paused to draw in a deep, shaky breath, and her expression grew gentle. "But I want you to know I will do whatever you need me to do, whatever it takes to make this easier for you."

The tight feeling was back in my throat, only this time it was caused by intense gratitude and relief. She wasn't angry, wasn't blaming me. She understood that I needed time to deal with my imprint in my own way. "Well, you can keep this from Seth, for starters," I told her, grabbing her hands again. "I just need space to figure this out on my own. I need to figure _him_ out on my own."

She snorted and shook her head. "I won't say anything to Seth, although I won't be surprised if he figures it out on his own." She slowly rose from the table and collected her purse and keys.

"And you _won't_ be doing this alone," she told me. "No matter how much you want to avoid it, you're going to have to talk to Nahuel. And the sooner the better."

Of course she was right. She usually was. It's just that I had no idea what to say to him, or even if he'd care to listen when I did figure out what to say.

I did the only thing I could: Push the issue to a mental back burner and focus on more mundane matters, like preparing the Clearwater residence to receive the strangest guest it had ever hosted. And that was saying something, considering the place was inhabited by shape-shifters.

SSW/SSW/SSW

Mom insisted on making a big dinner to welcome Nahuel.

"Mom, we don't even know if he likes human food," I cautioned her, watching her pull a dozen thick steaks from the freezer. Eating with him, feeding him, seemed so ordinary, and somehow insignificant, considering the pivotal impact he was going to have on my life. Was already having, I mentally corrected myself.

"Hospitality is always appropriate," she replied, as if she'd read my thought. "And everybody likes steak. Even if he doesn't like it, it's not as if the food will go to waste with Seth here."

The aforementioned human Hoover bopped into the kitchen just as Mom was putting the finishing touches on a huge bowl of potato salad. He took one look at the mound of meat on the counter and broke into a loopy grin. "Steak? Awesome! Is this because Nahuel is coming and we want to impress him?"

"Why would we want to impress him?" I snapped at my kid brother. Fortunately, Seth was too lost in anticipation of a feast to question my over-reaction to his innocent comment.

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I don't know! Just asking. So you want me to fire up the grill?"

"Get cleaned up first, and then you can start the grill," Mom said, tapping him lightly on the rump. She watched Seth disappear down the hall, heading toward our tiny bathroom, before turning to me. "Did Jacob say what time they'd get here?"

At that moment, I heard two distinct sounds: the wheezing cough of Jake's prehistoric pickup as it pulled into our driveway and—far louder and more terrifying—the thumping of my heart as it skipped into hyper-drive. I could barely get words out around the invisible talon that was clenched around my throat and dragging me relentlessly toward the front door.

"They're here now."

I stumbled to a halt a few steps short of the door, unable to look away from it. Two sets of footsteps approached over our gravel driveway. I knew Jake's tread as well as my own. The other …

The doorbell rang. That tinny, cheesy chime had never sounded so ominous before, not even on the day Charlie Swan rang it to tell us my father had died. He'd lived his life believing all vampires, even the Cullens, were a threat to our tribe. What would he think of his daughter imprinting on a half-vampire?

Mom came up behind me, glancing from the door to the spot where I stood rooted like a tree stump. "Aren't you going to open it for them?"

I looked at her, desperate for help. I couldn't move my arms or legs, and I _was_ trying. I shook my head, panicked, pleading with my eyes for her to do something. She reached up and gently rubbed my back before stepping around me and opening the door.

Jake's enormous form filled the doorway. "Hey, Sue," he greeted her, bending down to give her a quick one-armed hug. A stuffed leather duffel dangled from his other hand. I caught the faint whiff of vampire from it and wrinkled my nose. More donated clothes, no doubt.

Jake caught the direction of my gaze and handed the duffel to Mom. "You might want to wash those right away. Esme tried to get the smell out of them, but you know how it is."

Mom laughed nervously and stepped back from Jake, not being the least bit subtle about the fact that she was trying to peer around him. Jake gave me an encouraging smile, and then stepped into the house, revealing Nahuel behind him.

My half-vampire imprint—_My imprint!_—stood on our weather-beaten front porch. His hands were fisted inside the pockets of his borrowed jeans, which were brand new, of course, because no Cullen ever wore any article of clothing more than once. His shoulders were hunched and his whole body seemed stooped forward, his eyes downcast and fixed on the toes of his shoes (also new). He looked like he was desperately trying to disappear. Or evaporate.

I couldn't help myself. I stared, taking inventory of every line of his body and face. It was like I was seeing him for the first time, and in a sense, I _was_.

I thought I'd been prepared to see him up close, because I knew, intellectually, that all vampires were beautiful. Visual appeal was part of their predatory arsenal, how they drew human victims to them. And I'd certainly seen my share of stunning vampires. So I thought I knew how his appearance would affect me, both physically and emotionally.

I didn't know a damn thing.

He was more beautiful than any vampire I'd ever seen. Even lost and broken as he so obviously was, he was more intoxicating, more compelling, more heart-breaking … just _more_. Shorter than Jake or Seth, he still had a few inches on me. His skin was a flawless, rich brown that made me think of sweet, light coffee. His mouth was sensual yet serious, with an enticing fullness to his lower lip. His hair, too short for my taste and glossy blue-black like a raven's wing, made my fingers itch to touch it. He was breathtakingly beautiful but in a wholly masculine way.

In the dwindling sunlight of the late summer afternoon, every inch of his damnable perfection was on display except for his eyes, which were still trained on his shoes.

Then, as if he, too, could sense that invisible cable tightening, he looked up, meeting my gaze. I felt those psychic hooks punch in deeper, piercing through my breast bone, sinking into my trip-hammering heart, squeezing tight until I felt sure the damn thing would explode.

The universe held its breath, and I was certain there wasn't anything—not an earth quake, tornado or even the arrival of Nahuel's psychotic father—that could make me tear my eyes away from his. Of course, my brother proved me wrong.

Like a badly trained over-grown puppy, Seth bounded into the living room and right up to Nahuel. I'd forgotten that my brother had spent part of the day with Jacob at the Cullen house. He must have met Nahuel there already.

"Hey, man! Good to see you again. C'mon in." Trust Seth to totally miss the tension in the room. Nahuel broke our stare and gave Seth a tentative smile.

"Hello, Seth," he said. Two simple, innocuous words. Yet a wave of craven, shameless lust swept through my body at the sound of his voice. Deep and rich like his eyes, the timbre fell somewhere between the hymns of heaven and the whispered temptations of Lucifer.

Finally he stepped over our threshold to stand next to Jake. Seth dropped his arm around Mom's shoulder. "This is my mom, Sue Clearwater. She's one of our tribal elders."

"Welcome to our home, Nahuel," she said. "I'm so sorry for your loss." My mother smiled kindly and offered her hand.

As if she were meeting a pleasant new acquaintance at the reservation's community center instead of a century-and-a-half old vampire who had her only daughter in a biological headlock. I groaned inwardly. My whole family was just too damned used to weird shit. It wasn't normal. Or healthy.

Nahuel was obviously surprised by her gesture and words, but recovered quickly and gave her hand a brief shake.

"Thank you, Mrs. Clearwater," he said in that voice that made my stomach flutter and my mouth go dry. "I appreciate your hospitality. I will do my best to not be any more of a burden to your family than I must."

"You're no burden, man," Seth said, clapping him on the shoulder and pulling him further into the room. "This is what we Quileute werewolves do, fight evil vampires. When Joham shows up here, he'll be in for a majorly nasty surprise."

It was impossible to miss the sudden polar shift in Nahuel's demeanor at the mere mention of his father's name. He cringed visibly. A hunted look crept across his face. He shuddered and shrank in on himself again, eyes darting around the room.

_Shit, he's two steps away from a total panic attack. It's almost like post-traumatic stress or something. He's going to lose it right here in my living room!_

Somehow I knew he would hate to appear weak in front of my small, fragile and painfully kind human mother. I did the only thing I could think of to divert his mind. I stepped forward and extended my hand, mimicking my mother's soft approach.

"I'm Leah," I said, willing him to register and absorb my calm, even tone. "You're safe here. Please come in and sit down. Mom's making dinner. Are you hungry?"

Nahuel's eyes stopped their frenzied flitting and zeroed in on me. He stared at my extended hand for just a moment before slowly, oh so slowly, wrapping his long fingers around mine.

Heat surged up my arm from the light pressure of his hand. Once, when we were really little kids, Seth had dared me to jam a penny into a wall socket. The touch of Nahuel's hand felt exactly like that electrical shock—except more intense and totally, deliriously erotic. That simple, innocent contact was as arousing and intimate as a kiss.

"Leah," he breathed.

I forgot my mother and brother standing expectantly beside us. Forgot Jake standing there lump-like and useless. Hell, I wouldn't have recognized my own name if he hadn't just turned it into the single most beautiful sound I'd ever heard.

"I remember you."

My thundering heart skipped a beat. _He remembers me? _

Had I affected him so deeply six years ago? Was he feeling the aching pull, too? Was he as confused and utterly connected as I was? I knew I looked like an idiot, but I couldn't help myself. A big, stupid grin erupted on my face.

"You do?"

"Yes." His warm brown eyes abruptly turned hard and angry, but he didn't let go of my hand.

"You called me a _coward_."

_**End Note: **__So the boy shows some attitude. Now that Nahuel's thrown down the gauntlet, how will Leah respond? Reviews make me feel all sparkly, so please let me know what you think. As always, thanks for reading!_


	6. Absolute Beginners

_**A/N: **__The amazing, ever-insightful MunkeeRajah and Evelyn beta'd this chapter. They plug my plot holes, police my commas and make my lemons super citrusy. Thanks, ladies!_

_Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer. _

* * *

><p>Chapter 6 – Absolute Beginners<p>

**Leah POV**

The crescent moon crept over the treetops as I loped through the forest. A light drizzle made the ground loamy beneath my paws and glossed every leaf and branch with softly shimmering beads.

After a tiring day at work, and a boring, fruitless patrol, I was yearning for a hot shower and some sack time. Oh yeah, and a reprieve, _please_, from my nearly endless mental replay of that humiliating first meeting with my imprint five days ago.

In the history of unlikely pairings was there ever a couple that got off to a worse start?

_I remember you. You called me a coward._

"You didn't!" Mom had admonished, clearly appalled by my alleged rudeness. Okay, my _actual_ rudeness. Delighted at my embarrassment, Seth had made a big show of laughing so hard he collapsed on the floor. Jake hadn't even tried to hide his smirk.

At least Seth's antics had broken the tension enough for me to mumble a half-assed apology, and that had made the big jerk laugh even harder. My traitorous mother had looped her arm through Nahuel's like they were old friends and towed him away for a "grand tour" of our three-bedroom ranch.

As mortifying and confusing as that first exchange with Nahuel had been, it was what Jake had told me privately later that really had my mind whirling in stressed circles. Standing beside his pickup, he'd said that Alice had found multiple blind spots in her vision, meaning we could expect more than one wave of attack.

"Maybe some scouts will show up first," Jake had said. "We can't be sure, so we'll all need to be extra careful."

Then, he'd relayed a warning from Edward and Carlisle. _Why are they telling me anything?_ I'd wondered. _We don't even like each other._ And I felt instantly guilty because Carlisle at least had never been anything but considerate and helpful to me.

"They wanted me to tell you to be careful with Nahuel," Jake had said. "Carlisle thinks he's suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrome. You know, that disorder soldiers experience after battle? Edward agrees. Says Nahuel could be hair-trigger and possibly even dangerous."

I knew they might be right, that what Nahuel had experienced—the trauma of his aunt's murder, his father's insanity and brutality—could lead to erratic, maybe even destructive behavior. I also knew he was venomous; he'd changed his aunt by biting her minutes after his birth. His venom made him dangerous to other humans, and especially to us wolves, in a way Renesmee was not.

I'd agreed to be careful, if for no other reason than to give Jake some peace of mind. But secretly, I'd told myself that the emotionally fragile and pathetic half-vampire getting ready to settle into my brother's room for the night couldn't possibly harm my family or me.

I'd been both right and wrong.

He was wonderful with my mother. He ate her meals with gusto, kept up his end of the conversation no matter how mundane it must have seemed to him, and even helped her with the dinner dishes every night. The fond smiles and gentle touches she gave him hinted that she would consider him the perfect son-in-law if it weren't for the whole venomous half-vampire thing. I had no idea who this woman was, but she was not the vampire-hating harpy who raised me, that was for sure.

Nearly every day Jake escorted Nahuel to the Cullens' house, where Carlisle continued to monitor his health and Jasper provided battle training. He was respectful and amiable to them all, from what Jake told me. And he seemed to have developed the same affection for Seth that practically everyone else with a pulse, or without one, felt toward the muscle-bound twerp.

Vamp-boy's attitude toward me, however, was slowly driving me mad.

Was it possible to kill someone with aloof politeness? He sure seemed to be trying. If I attempted to make conversation, he tactfully found something else to do. If he was alone in a room and I entered it, he courteously wandered elsewhere. I couldn't even complain about his behavior to my mother because she was already his biggest fan

Talk about passive-aggressive. His civility and avoidance were his way of punishing me for insulting him at first sight. Apparently, Nahuel didn't just hold grudges, he nurtured them.

I tried to act as if nothing had changed in my life. I went to work every day in the stock room of the tire store owned by one of the tribal elders. Ran patrols. Tried to pretend that it didn't hurt every time he wrenched on that damned invisible cable with an infuriatingly polite brush-off here or a disinterested glance there.

My thoughts returned to the present as my home appeared through the trees. I phased in the underbrush, sprinted across the yard on two legs, and slipped quietly into the house. Seth snored loudly on the sleeper-sofa. Generous as always, he'd given his room to Nahuel without hesitation or complaint.

I didn't bother to turn on any lights as I padded through the dark house. I didn't bother with clothes, either. Seth and Mom had seen me in the altogether plenty of times already, an unavoidable reality of life as a shape-shifter. And if Nahuel happened to open his door and get an eyeful, well, maybe the free show would finally get a real reaction out of him.

As I passed his door, I paused, listening. Quiet and even, his breathing assured me he was sleeping peacefully for a change.

He'd had nightmares nearly every night. Waking us with his screaming seriously marred his record as a perfect house guest. When I'd entered his room to check on him that first night, he'd snarled at me like an animal. At that point, we'd all decided that it would be better to let him deal with his nightmares on his own. Each morning, he was back to normal, or whatever passed for his normal, and he said nothing about his dreams.

In my room, I pulled on sleep shorts and a tank before opening my bedroom window to let in the cool night air. My dad had central air put in the house years ago, but I wanted to feel the natural breeze on my skin. Maybe it would help clear my head.

Exhausted, I flopped face-down on the bed. As sleep dragged me under, I thought I heard a velvety whisper.

"_I remember you …"_

SSW/SSW/SSW

Tonight it was silence, not screaming, that woke me. I bolted upright in bed, the muscles in my arms and legs so tense they were on the verge of cramping painfully.

In just five short days, I'd gotten used to the sound of four heartbeats in my home at night. I'd come to know that fourth beat as well as I knew my own. Now, in the space that should have been filled with the sound of Nahuel's heart thrumming steady and fast, I heard only silence.

I scrambled from my bed, tripped on the sheet tangled around my legs, and stumbled across the room. I jerked open the bedroom door before remembering that it was the dead of night and Mom and Seth were still sleeping. From the living room, the rumble of Seth's snores confirmed that he was deep in la-la land. The door to my parents' room was closed, and I could hear my mother's steady, peaceful breathing beyond it.

Across the hall, a rumpled, empty bed was visible through the open door of Nahuel's room.

Quickly, quietly, I searched the house. There weren't many places for him to hide. I passed through the living room where Seth was sprawled across the sleeper-sofa wearing nothing but his tightey-whiteys, a slather of saliva smeared on his face. The kitchen was empty, as was the tiny laundry room next to it.

Nahuel wasn't in the house. My already-racing heart kicked into overdrive and my hands began to shake. He wasn't supposed to leave the house without Jake, Seth or me. I didn't want to think about the trouble he could get into wandering around on his own.

I checked the back door that led outside from the kitchen. It was closed but unlocked. My mother was obsessive about locking doors at night, even though she knew a deadbolt wouldn't stop any newborn sent by Joham.

_Fuck. Where did he go? What the hell is he doing?_

I needed to track him. The easiest way would be to simply open myself to the imprinting connection and allow it to lead me to him. But if anyone else in the pack was on four feet when I did that, he would realize what I was doing and my privacy would be over. I stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind me. In the shadow of the eave over the back door, I stripped and phased. Instantly, I caught the distant thoughts of Embry, who had relieved me from patrol duty a few hours ago.

'_Sup, Leah?_

_Everything's cool,_ I told him, carefully keeping my thoughts focused on the moment. Even though Jake was blocking awareness of my imprint from the other pack members, I didn't want to risk thinking about Nahuel too much while Embry was listening in.

_I think our guest went for a midnight stroll. I'm just going to find him and get him back to the house. Don't think the elders would like him running the res without supervision._

_You're probably right! Howl if you need me. I'm all the way on the other side of Forks right now, but I could be there fast if you want._

_Thanks, I'm good, though. 'Scuse me, but I gotta focus here. _I hoped Embry would buy that as justification for my tuning him out.

I slowly began to circle the house, nose to the ground, my clothes clenched in my teeth. The shorts and shirt would be covered with dirt and drool when I put them back on. Ah, the joys of werewolfhood.

I caught Nahuel's scent heading down the driveway and followed it to the road. It totally weirded me out that he smelled like cinnamon and spice, comfort and lust. At least that's how he smelled to me, and I sure as hell wasn't going to ask Jake or Seth if they found my imprint's aroma as exotic as I did.

Our house was nearly a mile from the nearest neighbor and several miles from the main part of the reservation. I thought at first he might be heading into town, but a mile down the road, his scent turned off the pavement and into the forest, aiming toward the beach. Between work and patrolling, I hadn't been to La Push in a dog's age, but it looked like my imprint was headed there.

It didn't take long to reach La Push, and as soon as my paws touched the sand, I knew he was there. The bouquet of Nahuel's scent was much stronger, and I could hear his familiar heartbeat, even above the rushing sound of the waves rolling onto the beach.

_Found him,_ I sent Embry's way, then quickly phased to human form so I could shut him out of my head. I threw on my damp, dirty clothes and strode onto the beach. Now that my mind was isolated from Embry, it was safe to allow myself to be guided by Nahuel's powerful pull.

At the base of a large stone outcropping that faced the ocean, I found Nahuel sitting in a puddle of sea water. He wore nothing but his borrowed boxers. His knees were drawn up against his chest and his muscular arms were clenched tight around his bent legs. His dark head was burrowed into his kneecaps, hiding his face. He rocked back and forth in rapid, jerky motions.

Pain punched through my chest and forced the air from my lungs, as if someone twice my size had just kicked me in the solar plexus. He looked lost, shattered and utterly alone.

I was pretty sure he wouldn't be happy to see me, but I couldn't leave him here. I'd rather have him angry at me than leave him alone in this condition.

I shuffled forward in the sand, trying to make enough noise to alert him to my presence.

"Nahuel?"

He didn't lift his head or give any indication that he heard me, just continued his obsessive rocking. I took a few more steps, until I was standing directly over him, and called his name again. He stopped swaying, but still didn't unclench his body from his balled-up posture.

Unsure of what to do, I sank to my knees beside him in the wet sand.

"What are you doing out here?" I ventured, trying to keep my tone neutral. I didn't want him to think I was angry at him for taking off on his own. Although I _was_ pissed. And scared.

If I'd been an ordinary human, I wouldn't have caught his muffled reply; but I was a werewolf, and he was my imprint. I'd have heard his whisper if we were standing on opposite ends of a wind tunnel with head-banging heavy metal music piped in at full volume.

"Getting away from _you_."

That chest-punched feeling slammed into me again, so strong this time it rocked me back on my heels. Those four words from him hurt more than any of the thousands Sam had spoken when he was trying to explain and apologize for imprinting on Emily. My first instinct was to shout, "Fuck you!" Leave him here alone. Let Joham have his sorry, half-vampire ass, no matter how good it looked in those boxers.

As I tensed my muscles to propel myself away from him, I heard his breath catch. He slowly levered his head out of his arms, turning his face toward me. His eyes were clenched shut, tears shimmering on his impossibly long lashes.

"I have to get away from you and Seth and Sue," he choked out. "I have to get away from the Cullens. Before _he_ follows me here and kills you all."

Understanding dawned, quickly followed by relief so strong it made me feel physically weak. _Because he wants to protect __**us**__. Not because he wants to leave __**me**__._

I moved without thinking. Miraculously, my hand didn't tremble as I grabbed his shoulder and shook it. "Look at me, Nahuel," I ordered, infusing my voice with strength and calm I certainly wasn't feeling. The electric charge of our skin-to-skin contact finally forced his eyes open. They focused on mine, desperate and bewildered.

"Your leaving wouldn't stop him from coming here," I told him, careful to avoid saying his father's name. "He knows about Renesmee now and he wants you both. We can't undo that. We can only stand together and fight him when he does come."

He studied me for a long moment with his honey-hued eyes, as if considering what I'd said. Slowly, he uncurled his arms from around his legs, relaxing his position so that he now sat cross-legged in the sand. Still hunched over, he resumed his rocking, but now the movement was more distracted than frantic. I dropped my tingling hand into my lap.

"The day I left six years ago, I began thinking about returning here," he said. "I so admired the Cullens and the life they have made for themselves. I admired their ability to live with compassion among humans."

He gazed out over the waves that crashed onto the sand yards away from where we sat. I felt like he was talking to the surf now, as if he'd forgotten I was there beside him.

"I wanted that for myself," he continued quietly. "I had thought myself a monster by nature my entire life. Only a truly evil creature would slaughter the person who gave it life. I did not know any other way to live or to think about myself, but I was tired of being a monster. I returned home and became a … vegetarian."

I couldn't breathe as he uttered the euphemism the Cullens used to describe vampires who live on animal blood rather than human. If preying on animals was a lifestyle change for him, then that meant my worst fears were confirmed: He had fed on humans in the past.

In the very instant my mind screamed in anguish, wondering how I could be with someone who had taken innocent lives, that damned psychic cable smacked sharply, hurtfully against my heart. Its message was clear.

His past didn't matter at all. I wanted him. He needed me. There was nothing else beyond that.

He was talking again. "But feeding on the blood of animals made me weak. I could not protect Huilen, could not fight my sire. Only my half-sister's pity saved me from him."

Abruptly, he leaped to his feet. His fingers twisted in his hair, pulling hard, as if pain would make it easier to keep talking, to keep unburdening himself of these thoughts that were tormenting him.

"Now I am here and I have put you all in danger. Living on human food and animal blood, I will never be strong enough to fight him." His hands moved from his hair to his eyes, scrubbing at them hard before settling over his lips. "Yet I cannot go back to being the monster I was that preyed on humans," he continued, his voice muffled and his face haunted, "no matter how physically powerful that would make me."

He dropped his hands and turned to me. "The only way I can think to stop him from following me is to take away what he most wants. If I am dead, he will have no reason to come here. The Cullens, Seth, Sue … _you_ … will all be safe."

He took a single tentative step toward me, his mournful eyes begging me to understand. "Help me, Leah," he pleaded. "Help me make everyone safe."

I understood exactly what he was asking of me. Fury exploded through my body, burning, white-hot fury powerful enough to bring down a jumbo jet or level a city.

"You selfish, self-pitying son of a _bitch_," I seethed. "You come here. You practically leave Joham a freaking _map_ and engraved invitation. You make everyone care about you. You make my mother and brother _love_ you. You turn _my_ life upside down."

I was shouting at the top of my lungs now, my voice completely over-powering the pounding surf. Nahuel gaped at me like a hooked fish on the bottom of a boat. My rant reached critical mass and I couldn't have stopped even if I had wanted to.

"And you think I'm going to help you leave everyone high and dry by _killing_ you?" I howled hoarsely, my throat burning from the sheer volume. "You know what? I take my apology back. You _are_ a coward. A lousy, fucking, selfish coward …"

I knew I'd gone too far, crossed over a line I should never have approached, the second _that_ word was out of my mouth.

Instantly, his glorious, tortured eyes grew diamond-hard. Rage boiled on his angel's face. He covered the short distance between us with a single step, latched his strong hands around my upper arms, and jerked me against his body. His mouth slammed down on mine.

I'd never had anyone force a kiss on me before. You'd think it would have pissed me off even more than I already was. It totally did not.

Disoriented with desire, I buried my fingers in that short, shaggy hair just as I'd been fantasizing about doing for days. His lips were not gentle and his hands gripped my arms so tightly it hurt. _That's going to leave a mark,_ I thought hazily.

My body vibrated with lust, molding along the length of his muscled form so closely I didn't know where my skin left off and his began. His tongue swept inside my mouth, leading mine in a maddening duel that left me yearning for more. I moaned into his mouth. The sound made him even wilder and more aggressive. One hand came up to tangle in the hair at my nape while the other moved south to my ass. When that hand flexed and pressed me forward, I felt the hard proof of his desire throbbing against my stomach.

The effect of his erection grinding into my body was like drinking a gallon of coffee after an all-night bender: instantly head-clearing. As his mouth continued to move on mine and his hands grew bolder, I realized that what he wanted and what he needed from me were, at this moment, two entirely different things.

He _wanted_ to fuck me senseless. He wanted a respite from overwhelming fear and despair, and sex would give him that. My body was totally in tune with that plan, but my head knew what he really _needed_ from me was not a quick hump in the sand.

He needed a reason to stay alive and fight his father.

Pushing weakly on his shoulders, I turned my head, moving my lips out of his reach. He ignored the hint. His hot mouth roved down my jawline to my throat, licking and sucking greedily. I shivered.

_If he bites me, I'm dead. What a way to go …_

He was muttering something, heated words in a language I didn't know. His hands slipped under my clothes, one driving my tank up my back, the other delving lower beneath the waistband of my shorts. _Oh God, his hands, his mouth, his smell! Move now or you're not going to be able to stop._

I tore my body from his and stumbled a step backward. Losing contact with his deliciously warm skin felt like plunging into an ice bath.

His head might not be feeling the effects of the imprinting—might _never_ feel them—but his body certainly was. If I played my cards right, I could use his lust to my advantage. I wouldn't be the first woman to use sex to manipulate a man.

Nahuel obviously wasn't ready to stop. He gasped rapidly, raggedly, his teak eyes dark and hooded with hunger—for my flesh, not my blood. He reached for me as if he would draw me back into his arms. I took another step back.

"We need to stop," I said, my voice shaking badly.

Anger replaced the lust in his eyes. "Why?" he ground out through gritted teeth. "You _want_ me. I have smelled it on you all week. And _I_ want _you_. If we are going to die soon anyway, why deny ourselves what we both desire?"

Guess he was done playing his game of "let's pretend Leah doesn't exist." _Thank God. _I didn't think we'd be going back to pretending we had no mutual attraction, not after this. But I wasn't ready to let this move forward, either.

"We are _not_ going to die," I said, putting another two paces between us. "I admit that I want you, too, but neither of us is ready for this. And this is definitely not the time or the place."

He was listening. Breaking our physical contact had helped clear his head, too. "I'm not saying no," I continued. "I'm just saying not now. Not yet. But 'not yet' is going to become 'not on your life' if you ever bring up the idea of suicide again. Got it?"

He considered my words for a few moments, his gaze wandering between my lips and my eyes. Finally, wordlessly, he nodded, and I realized I'd been holding my breath.

"Good," I said, giving him a weak smile. "We should go back to the house. This beach isn't exactly the safest spot for us right now."

When he nodded again, I turned to leave the beach and lead him home. He followed me silently through the night, and I smiled to myself.

_I think I've found a use for that miserable psychic cable,_ I thought. It just might be the key to keeping Nahuel alive.

* * *

><p><em><strong>End note: <strong>__Hot enough for you? We're just getting started!_


	7. Never Get Old

**_A/N: _**_It's time to hear from Jake again. Once again, the incomparable Evelyn and magnificent MunkeeRajah beta'd this chapter. I love them more than Edward's sex hair!_

_Stephenie Meyer still owns everything Twilighty._ _We bow to her brilliance. And her copyright!_

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><p>Chapter 7 – Never Get Old<p>

**Jacob POV**

When I was sixteen, I thought I had found the love of my life. Then, I turned into a wolf. Fur, fangs, drool—the whole enchilada. Suddenly, I couldn't be with the girl I loved. I couldn't tell her what I was going through, couldn't help her continue mending her badly broken heart, couldn't imagine any scenario that would allow me to stay in her world.

To say that I thought my life was shot to hell is an understatement. There was, however, one bright, beautiful spot in the dark, fetid crapper my existence had become: I got to drop out of high school.

I escaped the torture normal kids have to endure in the pressure cooker of festering hormones and angst that is high school. Even after I found the _real_ love of my life when Nessie was born, and it took me a few extra years to get my G.E.D., I didn't regret missing out on the catty, gossipy, in-everyone-else's-business atmosphere that poisons those four years.

I was glad, _thrilled_, to skip the drama.

So when Renesmee started obsessing over the whole Leah/Nahuel situation like a cheerleader who'd discovered an exciting new shade of lip gloss, it really made me want to pierce my own eardrums with a rusty nail.

"I'm just living vicariously, Jake," she said, trailing her fingertips through the fur of my ruff. "I mean, I never got to experience that whole 'blush of first love' thing. I don't remember a time when I didn't love you, when I didn't know you were my mate."

We were returning from an early morning hunt, walking slowly, just enjoying the time alone together. Neither of us was in a big hurry to get home. Any private conversation would have to stop as soon as we were within earshot of the Cullens' house. Half the family would be there, since Jasper had decided to hold a mass training session this morning. Luckily for Ness, Alice had summoned her back to the house. Wedding plans apparently took precedence over battle preparation.

_Love you. My mate._ I never got tired of hearing her apply those words to me. She owned me, body and soul, and there was no way I could _not_ tell her about Leah and Nahuel. So I had no one to blame but myself for her fixation. If I hadn't told her, she wouldn't be badgering me now for details.

I felt a pang of guilt, because I hadn't actually told Leah yet that Ness knew. I figured my beta should kind of assume there was no way I could keep something as important as her imprinting from _my_ imprint. I just hoped she wouldn't kick my tail too hard when she found out.

I understood why Nessie was curious about Nahuel, since he was the only other half-vampire we'd ever met. It even made sense that she would be fascinated that another wolf had imprinted on another hybrid. Still, I felt a little jealous that she could be so focused on something other than us, especially considering all the wedding planning that was going on in the Cullen household.

I'd never really seen Nahuel as a threat to my relationship with Ness. Not only did I know that she was as nuts about me as I was for her, I was confident that Nahuel's interest lay elsewhere. Over the past few days, I'd watched him zeroing in on Leah like a stallion sniffing around a choice mare. I figured he'd discover for himself soon enough that this mare had sharp fangs and no fear of using them.

Yet, other than that observation, I really didn't have that many details to offer Renesmee. Besides, I felt more than a little weird discussing Leah's sex life—or lack thereof—with Ness.

I wanted to be done with this conversation, at least for a while. I shook my head and snorted loudly, spraying her sneakers with gobs of wolf snot. Verbal communication isn't always necessary to get your point across.

"Ewww! Gross!" She propped one small, snot-covered foot on my flank, grabbed my bushy tail and swiped it across her slimy sneaker. After repeating the process with the other foot, she dropped my tail and shoved me away.

"Don't try to distract me," she chuckled as we resumed our slow stroll. Exasperated, I rolled my eyes. _Wouldn't dream of it._

"I just want to know what it's like," she continued, "that first moment when you realize you're in love. If that's even what Leah and Nahuel are feeling right now. I mean, for all we know it could just be purely physical at this point …"

I had _so_ heard enough. I dipped my head and nipped at her heels, our private signal that I wanted to play one of our favorite games. Giggling like a teenager, Nessie took off running vampire-fast through the trees, heading toward the river that would lead us back to the house. I was after her in seconds, allowing her to stay a few paces ahead of me.

Catching her was, of course, the best part of the game. I waited until we were within eyeshot of the water before snagging my teeth in the hem of her flannel shirt. She screamed with laughter. Tugging backward sharply, I spun us both around so that she landed on her back beneath me. I planted my front paws on either side of her shoulders, ducked my head, and licked her face from chin to brow.

"You jerk!" she shrieked. Using the bottom of her shirt, she wiped my spit off her face, a move that exposed acres of creamy white stomach and a hint of lacy black bra. One look, and I was done for.

I phased and dropped, naked, on top of her, straddling her on my hands and knees. She looked amazing. Her skin was flushed a rosy pink with her laughter, and her eyes glistened. I wanted nothing more than to taste every inch of her right there on the grassy river bank. Instead, I carefully held my body above hers, minimizing skin contact. Her laughter choked off immediately.

"See, this is what I'm talking about, Jake," she said breathily, reaching up to twine her fingers in my hair. She tugged hard, drawing me toward her. "You pull a stunt like this and expect me to keep my hands to myself?"

I really didn't feel like talking, so I lowered my lips to hers. Pressing light nips along her bottom lip, I coaxed her mouth open for me. As I deepened the kiss, she wrapped her jeans-clad legs around my hips and jerked me down into the cradle of her thighs. In the same heartbeat, she opened her mind to me. Her arousal speared through my brain, down my body and straight to my groin.

Instant. Raging. Hard-on.

_Knucklehead. What did you think was going to happen when your naked ass jumped her?_

We'd both agreed to wait until we were married, but lately she seemed to be regretting that decision, testing my willpower at every opportunity. She made it hard—in every sense of the word—to remember why we were waiting. I wanted to do things right, in a way that would ensure I kept the respect and trust I'd worked so hard to earn from her father. If we'd all just been ordinary people, I probably wouldn't have cared what he thought. But getting my rocks off wasn't worth the risk of having Edward pissed at me for eternity.

I broke the kiss and rolled away from her, drawing one knee up to hide my erection from her always-greedy eyes. No matter what Leah thought, I was not totally shameless. Renesmee was welcome to look at the rest of my body all she wanted, but there was no way I was going to let her ogle my boner.

"Damn it, Ness!" I unstrapped my cutoffs from my leg and shook them out. "Turn around."

"Oh, like I haven't already seen it a million times, Jake," she shot back, just as annoyed as I was. "Next time, don't start something you're not going to finish." She sprang to her feet and showed me her back.

Of course, she was right. When things got out of hand between us, it was usually as much my fault as hers. I stood and shimmied into my cutoffs, cursing under my breath when I realized my big problem wasn't going away.

_Shit. There's no way I'm going to be able to zip up over this thing._

"Done?" she asked. Before I could tell her to stay put, she spun around and got an eyeful of my predicament. Her dark eyes popped wide and she clapped a palm over her mouth, trying to stifle her snickering.

"Guess I'll need a swim before we head back to the house," I sighed, eyeing the river.

"Well if you're going to do that, shouldn't you take your shorts off again?" she suggested, archly raising one eyebrow.

"Like hell," I grumbled, holding my fly closed and splashing waist-deep into the chilly mountain stream.

It wouldn't be the first time I went home with wet jeans.

SSW/SSW/SSW

Jasper was a vampire on a mission. That mission was either to drive my pack to exhaustion or force Nahuel to vamp up and learn how to defend himself. It could possibly be both.

Our resident empath had been working us all like, well, _dogs_, for the better part of the day. If it had been anyone else, I'd have told him to ease up on Nahuel. Nearly two weeks after showing up on our doorstep battered and broken, he still had moments when he was clearly holding his shit together with his finger nails. I really wasn't interested in seeing him completely lose it, and I was pretty sure Leah would be furious if I let things get to that point.

More than any of us, though, Jasper knew what was at stake and what Nahuel's emotional limits were. So I kept my mouth shut and helped him put my pack mates and Leah's imprint through their paces. Fortunately, Carlisle and Esme were also there to be the voices of reason when the sun began to set and Jasper was still driving us all hard.

"Jasper, I think we should wrap up for the day," Carlisle said, when Beau, the youngest member of my pack, took a particularly hard fall while sparring with Emmett. "The wolves need a break. They won't be as effective protecting Forks and the reservation if you run them into the ground training."

It was pretty obvious that Jasper would rather keep going. He'd probably bring in floods to light up the practice field until dawn if Carlisle would let him. I understood his sense of urgency; he adored his niece with every inch of his cold, dead heart. I loved the dude for that. But he also knew when enough was enough, and I respected him for that.

Jasper finally called an end to the day's activities. My pack mates had had some fun off-roading to the remote spot where we'd faced down the Volturi all those years ago. This site now served as a gathering place whenever the packs and vampires needed to come together. We'd trained for battle here, but we'd also held numerous picnics and baseball games in this field as well.

Ever the considerate hostess, Esme had set up a tent where the guys could phase and dress with relative privacy. Of course, since wolf stomachs were involved, it was also stocked with plenty of snacks and drinks, too. I'd been watching on the sidelines in human form for the past hour, hanging out near the entrance of the tent. The vampires began to leave the clearing, and the four members of my pack who were training today—Embry, Quil, Paul and Beau—headed inside to change and unwind.

Nahuel approached me. "Jake, may I have a word?"

"Sure. What's up?" I'd brought him to today's training session and would be giving him a ride home. I wasn't looking forward to the drive with him. Nahuel was like a restless toddler in a vehicle. The day I'd delivered him to Leah's door for the first time, I'd been stunned to learn he'd never before been in a car, not once in a hundred and fifty years. How was that even possible? He'd been an awful passenger, fidgeting, playing with the windows and sticking his head outside throughout the drive.

He glanced toward the tent, where the sound of loud laughter broadcast that my pack brothers were up to their usual clowning around. He wanted privacy, or at least as close to it as he could get surrounded by creatures with super-human hearing.

It was time to head home anyway, so I stuck my head in the tent and said a quick goodbye to the others. Then I nodded toward where my truck sat at the far end of the clearing and began to walk in that direction. He fell in step beside me.

We walked slowly in silence for a few moments. I'd learned Nahuel rarely spoke without thinking first about what he would say, and he was obviously weighing his words carefully now.

"Jacob, I wanted to ask you if Leah is … _yours_," he said.

I stopped walking and stared at him blankly. "Huh?" After a second, understanding landed with a wet smack between my eyes. He couldn't mean what I _thought_ he meant. Could he?

"I know you intend to marry Renesmee," he said, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He looked like he'd rather not be having this conversation. "But I wanted to ask if Leah also belongs to you. Please understand, I have never before met a … family?" He looked at me, questioning, to see if that was the right word. I nodded. _Close enough, I guess._ "… A family like yours," he continued, "and I don't presume to understand the relationships in the group. You and Leah seem very close."

My face and ears felt hot. He did mean what I thought he meant. I'd known he was interested in her, but I was still surprised that he was being so upfront about defining territory when it came to Leah.

"Leah is my beta, my second in command. She's also my friend. Nothing more. I'm with Renesmee and no one else. Does that answer your question?"

He grinned widely, one of the few real smiles I'd seen from him. "Yes, I believe it does. Thank you."

In the past few days, I'd realized that I actually liked Nahuel. He'd been through hell and had every reason to be a miserable, weak asshole. But every day he struggled to master his fear, and I admired him for it. In the past few days, something had changed. He'd seemed less frantic, less likely to take off running. I'd suspected Leah had something to do with the change. Now, I was sure of it.

We resumed walking in silence for a moment, but I sensed he wasn't done yet.

"I would ask one more thing," he said, seeming more confident now. "I overheard some of your pack members discussing Leah and Sam. He is the leader of the other wolf pack, correct?" I nodded. "From what I understood, they were together and he chose another over Leah."

I stopped walking again. "I guess that's somewhat accurate. Why?"

Nahuel look skeptical. "Why would he do that?"

That question spoke volumes.

I knew Leah probably thought Nahuel walked on water right about now, thanks to the effects of the imprinting bond. I was beginning to suspect she wasn't the only one feeling that influence, however, if Nahuel truly couldn't imagine why anyone would leave my prickly, ball-busting beta.

Of course, there was no way I was going to tell Nahuel that Leah had imprinted on him. Still, that didn't mean I couldn't talk about someone else's experience, right?

"He imprinted on another woman, Emily," I said. "Imprinting is a little hard to explain, but it's kind of like the mating bond that vampires experience. Had you met a mated vampire pair before the Cullens?" He nodded, a thoughtful, reflective expression on his face.

"Well, when it happens to a wolf, his entire world realigns," I continued. "Everything centers around the object of his imprinting. He would do anything, _be_ anything for her. Any relationships or ties he had before aren't as important as she is. She's the only thing that matters, and he'll do anything to give her what she needs."

"Why didn't Sam imprint on Leah?" Nahuel demanded. His tone clearly conveyed he thought Sam was a moron for throwing Leah over, no matter what the circumstances.

"He didn't _choose_ to imprint on Emily instead of Leah. It doesn't work that way," I explained. "It chooses you. We're not sure why it happens, but when it does the wolf has no control over it."

An odd combination of pity and disapproval played across his vampire-perfect face. I didn't need Edward's skills to know what he was thinking.

"It's not like that," I hurried to correct him. "Imprinting is …" I struggled to find the right word, "… transcendent. It makes two imperfect individuals part of a perfect whole. When it happens to you, you know you'll never be alone, never be lost again, because she is always a part of you. She is always your reason."

A spark of comprehension flickered in his eyes. "Is this what exists between you and Renesmee?"

"Yes," I replied. I held my breath, silently willing him to make one more leap of understanding. Leah couldn't be angry at me if he figured it for himself, right? After all, Sam had given me a pass when Bella figured out my secret on her own all those years ago.

Maybe deep down he didn't think he deserved that kind of devotion. Maybe he just couldn't imagine that kind of love. Or maybe he wasn't ready yet to admit to himself what I was pretty sure he _did_ know, even if it was at a subconscious level.

For whatever reason, he missed the moment and resumed walking toward my truck. I sighed and followed him. _Sorry, Leah. I gave it a shot._

I needed to get Nahuel back to the reservation. And I really needed to have a come-to-Jesus with my beta. She'd put off the imprinting conversation long enough.

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><p><strong><em>End Note: <em>**_This was a fun chapter to write. Hope you enjoyed reading it, too! If you've been following this story but haven't yet reviewed, I'd love to hear from you! Thanks for reading._


	8. I Never Dreamed

**_A/N: _**_ My marvelous betas MunkeeRajah and Evelyn held my hand through this chapter, too. They rock!_

_Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, but the mental image of Nahuel in his boxers, THAT is all mine!_

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><p>Chapter 8 – I Never Dreamed<p>

**Leah POV**

After that panty-melting kiss on the beach nearly a week ago, Nahuel shifted gears faster than a Cullen in an Italian sports car.

Instead of avoiding me, he was up my butt every time I turned around. Whenever we were alone, he was on me like a dog on a bone. Nahuel was a groper; there was just no other word for it. His mouth was magic, his body, sinfully tempting, but his hands, well, his hands were just _everywhere_. He was like a horny teenager relishing first-time access—granted, limited access—to a girl's body.

More than once, Mom or Seth nearly walked in on us while Nahuel's pretty paws were working on wearing down my resistance. Still, I thought we were doing a fairly good job of keeping the change in our relationship under wraps. Until the day Jake brought Nahuel home from yet another marathon training session and my Alpha literally took me out to the woodshed.

My dad had been famous for his fish fry, but cooking it really stank up the house, so my mother insisted he do it outside. It was our family's dirty little secret that Harry Clearwater's famed homemade fish fry wasn't actually made in our home, but in the woodshed behind our house. Now, the shed housed our lawn mower and some gardening tools. The decrepit building smelled of grass clippings, old motor oil and faintly, even after all these years, Dad's fish fry.

Jake parked his dusty butt on our old John Deere and glared at me. "What's going on between you and Nahuel?" he demanded.

Dread bubbled up in my throat. "Why?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice calm. "Did he say something?"

"You could say that," Jake hissed. "He asked me if you're my mistress." He spat out the words as if they tasted bad. His disgust would have offended me, if the question itself weren't so damned hilarious. I couldn't help myself. I laughed in his face. Vague discomfort gelled into outright annoyance in his eyes.

"Why would he ask that?" I finally managed, after my loud guffaws settled down to intermittent snorts.

"Oh, I don't know," he snapped. "Could it be because you still haven't told him what's really going on between you two? Because you haven't explained to him how things work between wolves and their imprints?"

He crossed both beefy arms over his chest and leaned toward me, looking every bit like an Alpha wolf about to nip a lower-ranking pack member to remind her of her place. "He also wanted to know about imprinting and your sordid little love triangle with Sam and Emily."

That got my attention. "Why would he ask about that?"

"You haven't told him anything," Jake accused, ignoring my question. "He's so in the dark he doesn't know if he's coming or going."

"Really?" That damned psychic cable had wrenched painfully all week, every time I deflected vamp-boy's advances. I liked knowing that I was finally having some effect on him, too. My enjoyment must have shown on my face. The corners of Jake's mouth drew down in disapproval and he shook his head.

"I never figured you for a tease, Leah."

It was my turn to get angry. "Don't you _dare_ judge me, Jacob Black," I growled, giving him a hard shove in the center of his massive chest. He nearly toppled backward off the mower seat. "You tried to put off telling Bella about imprinting on her baby girl for as long as possible. And just how old _was_ your imprint when you finally explained everything to her?"

My sarcasm shut him up. Jake had hit the jackpot in that respect and he knew it. He'd never had to explain anything to Renesmee. She'd just known. He'd never had to face the terrifying, soul-exposing conversation that Paul had with Rachel, or that Quil would one day have with Claire.

He shifted uncomfortably and rubbed the back of his neck. I felt a little bad for snapping at him. It wasn't his fault that he suffered from severe testosterone brain-poisoning like all the other males in our pack.

Finally he sighed, looked up and raised his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry, okay? You're right. I haven't really been in your shoes, so I don't know how I would handle things in your position."

"Thanks," I grumbled grudgingly.

Quick amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Speaking of positions, I get the impression that Nahuel has a few he'd like to try with you."

I crossed one arm over my breasts protectively, and slapped the other hand over my eyes. That wouldn't hide my embarrassment, but at least I didn't have to see his knowing smirk. "Yeah, I know," I muttered. "He's been trying to get in my pants ever since that night he took off on his own."

"So give in already," he said with a chuckle. "Now that's one thing I can tell you I _would_ do if I were in your shoes and didn't have a mind-reading future father-in-law to worry about."

"I'm glad my sex life amuses you," I said sourly. "But I'm not holding out on him to be a bitch, or because I care what anyone will think. I'm trying to make him want sex with me more than he wants to give up on fighting his father."

I paused and swallowed hard, forcing the words out. "… more than he wants to die."

Jake's eyes widened. "_What_?"

Part of me felt like I was betraying Nahuel by revealing to Jake what had happened on the beach. But if I couldn't tell my Alpha, my best friend, about my imprint's death wish, who could I tell? So I told him everything: Nahuel's terror and despair that his presence in Forks would bring Joham down on us all. His conviction that the only way to protect us was for him to die. I even told him about the kiss and where Nahuel had wanted it to lead.

"I know it's manipulative and bitchy and wrong to hold sex over his head, but I just can't think of any other way to make him want to stick around," I said, unable to meet Jake's gaze. I turned my back on him and moved to stand in the doorway, looking back at the house. Through the kitchen window, I could see my mother and Nahuel, heads close together, intently discussing something.

Jake rose from the mower to stand behind me, his ham-sized hands settling warm and gentle on my shoulders. He gave me a slight shake. "You always sell yourself short. Why do you do that?" Frustration darkened his voice. "You don't need to play some game to make him want to stay alive. _You_ are enough. I wish you could see that."

I bowed my head, fighting against the wretched lump in my throat. "When you explained imprinting to him, he didn't make the connection, did he?"

After a few moments of silence, Jake gave my shoulders a light squeeze and dropped his hands. I turned to face him. He shook his head regretfully, his dark eyes soft and sympathetic. I drew a shaky breath.

"I'm just focusing on keeping him alive long enough for us to kill his father," I said, willing my voice to sound strong and determined. "Maybe when he's not living in fear anymore, we can find some kind of understanding about the imprinting."

He worried his lower lip between his teeth, studying me thoughtfully. "There are so many ways this game could backfire on you," he said, anxiety lacing his tone.

"I'm a big girl, Jake. I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself."

I headed across the yard toward the back door. "Nahuel and I are never going to be a grand love story like you and Renesmee," I said quietly over my shoulder. "That kind of thing … well, it's just not for me, that's all."

As I reached the kitchen door, I heard his truck engine turn over. I didn't watch him drive away.

It was a relief to have finally told Jake what happened on the beach at La Push. Of course, I'd skipped over two important truths I'd come to realize since that night. First, regardless of what Nahuel did or didn't feel for me, no matter how much or how often he infuriated me, I _ached_ for him. The reason—whether it was the imprint or love—really didn't matter at all. I was hooked, body and soul.

And the second truth, the more important one, was that I wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.

SSW/SSW/SSW

Sure I bitched about it, but most of the time I was actually okay with being a werewolf. Turning into a powerful predator could be pretty cool. Plus, there were some great fringe benefits. I hadn't been sick or injured in years. I could eat whatever I wanted without gaining weight. And my tits were seriously spectacular, the kind of spectacular that Hollywood starlets paid tens of thousands of dollars to achieve.

On the other hand, what good were supernatural powers if they couldn't get you out of some of the more mind-numbing realities of being human? Like doing laundry. I'd rather scrub the entire bathroom with a toothbrush than do a single load of Seth's sweaty, smelly clothes.

But it was my turn to do the laundry, which was why I was bent over our turn-of-the-century, top-load clothes washer, head and shoulders wedged inside the drum. I was trying to loosen a really stubborn sock that had knotted around the agitator. You'd think one stupid sock wouldn't be a problem for a werewolf, but if anyone else had been home, I'd have called in reinforcements.

My curses reverberated loudly inside the machine. The smells of detergent and damp funkiness were overpowering. So I didn't realize Nahuel was behind me until he groped my butt.

Startled, and scrambling to free myself from the washer, I moved backward too fast, whacking my head hard on the lip of the opening. Worse, my hair snagged on some sharp edge. I was stuck.

_Oh, gimme a freaking break! _

I couldn't straighten up or reach the snag. I really couldn't do anything except stand there with my (also spectacular) ass in the air. Hard to believe I was the same she-wolf who once mowed through Victoria's army of savage newborns.

Of course, Nahuel took full advantage of my predicament. Without as much as a "hello," he curved his body around mine, molding his broad chest and muscular abdomen against my back and rear.

His hands—those God-damned, wonderful hands—dove beneath my T-shirt, which was riding up onto my shoulders because of my bent-over posture. Five fingers splayed across my stomach, the long middle one slipping just beneath my waistband. The other hand slid higher. I gasped when those fingers brushed silkily against the side of my breast. Jake's comment about positions flashed through my mind and I suppressed a shiver.

"Is something wrong, ñi piuque?" he asked. He'd been sprinkling his conversation with those foreign phrases ever since we returned from the beach. Thanks to the internet, I was pretty sure the words were Mapudungun, the native language of his Mapuche mother. I didn't know their meaning, but I had no problem understanding the come-fuck-me tone behind them.

"My hair is caught," I offered breathlessly. I resisted an almost overpowering urge to grind my butt into his groin.

"Is that so?" He pressed his warm lips to the back of my neck, burying his nose in the hair at my nape. He inhaled deeply, as if he enjoyed my scent, and his tongue traced an intricate pattern, hot and wet, on my vertebrae. His voice dripped with saccharine sympathy. "Is it very painful?"

_Painful? Hell no. That feels great! Oh, he means my hair …_

"Hurts a little," I managed to wheeze out. Between the washer pressing into my stomach and his hard-on nudging my ass, breathing was majorly difficult.

When his thighs pushed between mine, spreading them from behind, I knew it was time to end this. I drew breath to tell him to get the hell off me, to help me get out of this damn washing machine. Between the intake and the exhalation, however, I lost the power of speech.

His hand cupped my breast fully, cradling its weight in his palm. His long, magical fingers stroked oh-so-slowly across my nipple, then pinched deliciously. I was instantly soaked. If he slid my shorts down my legs right now, I'd let him do whatever he wanted. Lick every inch of me. Sniff me. Fuck me until I forgot my own name.

I was squirming desperately now, bucking against him, grasping behind me trying to touch some part of his body. Suddenly I was free, out of the washer, and flipped around to face him.

Before my brain could fully register my upright position, he pressed me back against the machine. His face was so close to mine that his intoxicating scent saturated my every breath. Muscular arms bracketed my body as he placed his hands on the washer on either side of me. I wanted them back where they belonged, on me. He gazed in my eyes for a moment, giving me a chance to protest, waiting just a fraction of a second for me to order him away.

When I remained silent, his eyes dropped to my breasts and a self-satisfied smile played at the corners of his mouth. Moving again with dizzying speed, he slammed the lid on the washer and hoisted me to sit on top of it. In the next instant, my T-shirt was gone and his hands were back on my naked breasts.

My breast-fondling experience was, admittedly, limited. There'd only ever been Sam and he was an ass man. So for most of the time I'd had breasts, I'd thought of them as just something that made me look good. Or that got in the way when I was bending over and unloading the shopping cart in the grocery store check-out line.

Nahuel made me _so_ glad I had tits, and even happier that he'd had the balls to finally get my shirt off. His long fingers stroked me gently, drawing sensual, slowly diminishing circles from the perimeter of my breasts in toward my nipples.

"Beautiful," he murmured. He meant it, and for the first time in a long time, I believed it. His touch was worshipful, considerate. He wasn't just caressing my breasts for his own pleasure, but for mine as well. I gripped the edge of the clothes washer and leaned forward, offering myself up in a way I'd never done before, a way I'd never imagined I would want to.

He removed his own shirt so quickly I didn't even realize his hands had moved until he drew me against his perfectly sculpted chest. I whimpered—yes, _whimpered_—at the erotic sensation of his hot skin moving slickly, silkily against my sensitized nipples. He whispered my name, and then lowered his lips to mine.

While his hands had covered a lot of territory since our encounter on the beach, he hadn't really kissed me again. That first time, he'd been wild with anger and fear. He'd channeled pure lust and rage through his perfect mouth and tongue.

This kiss was as different from our first as we were from each other. His arms stole around me tenderly, as if he regretted the marks his hands had left on me before. His lips were sweet, almost chaste, against mine.

_What the fuck? I'm going up in flames and he's giving me sweet? Oh hell no! _

Grabbing fistfuls of the soft black hair just above his ears, I tried to take control of the kiss and slide my tongue into his mouth. Instead of opening for me, he gently moved his lips away. Nestling his cheek against my throat, he pressed a soft kiss on my collar bone. His powerful arms curved around my back and he simply hugged me to him until our breathing calmed and fell into pace with each other.

Our first kiss had been about driving desire and desperation. This one had turned into something else entirely.

Five minutes ago he'd been crushing his erection against my ass and pinching my nipple. My breasts and stomach had tingled wherever my naked skin touched his. Yet now he was cradling me the way a child would cuddle a beloved teddy bear. He'd slingshot us both from crashing, screaming desire to tender, quite comfort in less time than it took me to get dressed in the morning.

The man was giving me emotional whiplash.

Confused but content, I sighed and closed my eyes. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I returned the embrace and savored the perfection of the moment. Of course, perfect moments never last, at least not for me.

Gradually, two sounds and two scents intruded on my bubble of bliss: a heartbeat, quick and frantic, that belonged to neither of us. Breathing, shallow and rapid, also not ours. The odor of cheap aftershave.

Nahuel gave no indication he noticed any of those things, but he must have been feeling the pressure of reality against our sphere of perfection as well. He burrowed his face into my shoulder, like a child who hopes the covers he pulls over his head will block out the sound of the morning alarm.

It was the second scent, the unmistakable tang of gun metal, that forced my eyes open.

In full police uniform, Charlie Swan stood in the doorway of my mother's laundry room. His left hand was bracing the impressive-looking gun that he clutched in his right. That gun was pointing at Nahuel.

My gasped "Oh, shit," finally got Nahuel's attention. He lifted his head and looked over his shoulder, but didn't take his arms from around me. One look at Charlie, and Nahuel tightened his grip. I couldn't blame him.

"Get your hands off her," Chief Swan growled, taking a threatening step into the room. Suddenly, the laundry room felt very crowded. Charlie gestured with the gun, pointing to the corner of the room farthest from the washer. "Get over there. Put your hands on that wall. Make one funny move and I'll put a bullet between your eyes."

Charlie had no way of knowing the danger he was in, but I did. Even as I opened my mouth to warn him off, to clear up whatever misunderstanding he thought he saw, I felt Nahuel tense minutely in my arms.

He moved too fast for me to see anything more than a blur. Being human, Charlie saw even less. Before Bella's father had time to register that he'd been disarmed, before the sound of Nahuel's low growl reached his ears, my imprint had him by the throat. He slammed Charlie against the wall. Charlie's head met the faded wood paneling with a loud crack. He dangled, wheezing and gasping, in the air. With his other hand, Nahuel crushed the gun into scrap metal.

Lost, broken, frightened at first, then sweet, sexy and polite, Nahuel had made it easy in these past weeks for me to forget what he really was. Easy to forget that he'd been born in blood. That death had held his perfect, beautiful hand from the moment he ripped his way from his mother's womb.

The salty, metallic scent of blood reached my nostrils. Charlie was bleeding. A smudge of bright blood was visible on the wall where his head had met the paneling, and a trickle threaded from the corner of his mouth down his chin.

As a snarl curled his perfect lips away from his gleaming, sharp teeth, Nahuel brought Charlie's purple face closer to his and inhaled deeply. Enjoying the bouquet before guzzling the wine. In that moment, I saw no trace of the man I'd started to believe was the other half of my soul. I saw only an aggressive vampire, and the wolf in me acted instinctively.

With Nahuel's teeth just inches from Charlie's jugular, I phased and launched myself at my imprint. When I hit him, he dropped Charlie. We hurtled through the laundry room door and into the kitchen. Rolling over each other, our bodies crashed into the kitchen table. The table toppled. Chairs splintered around us.

Nahuel didn't want to hurt me. That's the only explanation for how I pinned him so quickly.

I used the sheer weight of my wolf form to hold him to the floor, my jaws clamped tightly around his throat. He trembled feverishly and his fingers gouged the linoleum beneath us, scrabbling to reach Charlie and his blood. But he made no move to throw me off.

Out of the corner of the eye closest to his face, I saw his wide, wild eyes . They were coal black, desperate and begging. His voice was a rattling hiss around the pressure of my hold.

"Don't let go. Please, don't let go."

And suddenly I remembered what he'd said that night on the beach, how he was tired of being a monster. If I'd been in human form, I would have cried for him. I would have kissed every inch of his beautiful, terrified face and reassured him that I would _never_ let him go. But I was a wolf at the moment, and all I could manage was a low whine that I hoped he understood.

I focused on the laundry room door, where Charlie now stood, swaying drunkenly . His uniform shirt was torn and livid purple bruises were beginning to appear on his throat just above his collar. Blood was smeared across his face. His hands, clinging to the door jamb for support, shook badly.

His eyes darted from Nahuel to me and back again, as if he couldn't decide which of us was the more heinous monster.

Of course, he'd seen everything.

* * *

><p><strong><em>End Note: <em>**_So I've had several people tell me I should tweet about this story. I have to confess I'm soooo 20th century I don't have a twitter account. What do you all think? Would you be interested in following SSW on Twitter?_


	9. Reality

_**A/N:** I'm humbled and amazed by the response to this story. I always wanted more of Leah in BD and I'm thrilled that so many fandom readers feel the same way. Thanks to everyone who has read SSW, decided to follow it on Twitter (see my profile) and reviewed. Every story is a conversation between the writer and the reader, and hopefully you feel this is a good one._

_Once again, the two most wonderful betas in the world, Evelyn and MunkeeRajah, helped me smooth out the rough spots in this chapter. _

_Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I'm just playing in her pool for a while._

* * *

><p>Chapter 9 - Reality<p>

**Leah POV**

I'd never liked Charlie Swan.

Yeah, I know it wasn't a nice way to feel about a guy who'd been my father's best friend for as long as I could remember. When Dad died, Charlie was there for my family during those dark days. And like it or not, I had to admit he'd brought the sparkle back to my mother's eyes. Good at his job, liked by the community he served, a devoted father, and friend to many on the rez, Charlie was just an all-around hell of a great guy.

For all those reasons, he rubbed me the wrong way. No one should be that great all the time. Now, I had another reason to dislike Charlie.

_He had fucked up everything._

That poisonous thought chanted through my brain over and over as I crouched above Nahuel, my teeth still on his throat, watching Charlie watch us. The part of me that was afraid for Nahuel was wrestling with the part that was afraid _of_ him, of what he might do to Charlie if I let go. _Stalemate_.

God-damned Charlie Swan.

For six years, all the vampires and werewolves in Charlie's life had done a cautious, frantic little dance around him. _Can't let him know. Have to protect him from the truth. Charlie couldn't handle knowing what we all really are. He'll be safer if he doesn't know._ And Charlie had been a willing partner in the dance, happily keeping his head buried firmly up his ass. Ignoring the blatant evidence that the people closest to him weren't exactly _people_ at all.

"Trained investigator," my ass. He didn't ask questions. Not after Jake phased in front of him six years ago, giving him just a taste of the truth in hopes of winning Charlie's silence. Not after meeting his granddaughter, knowing it was impossible for Bella, who had clearly _not_ been pregnant when she married Edward, to have given birth just a month later. Not even after watching that child grow up at a pace that was clearly unnatural. He could teach the Army a thing or two about "don't ask, don't tell."

Now, the big, old, splintery paddle of _reality_ had just soundly smacked Charlie on his naked, self-deluding ass. Everything was totally screwed up now, thanks to Charlie. The only way things could have been worse was if I hadn't been able to stop Nahuel.

If I'd been in human form I would have gagged on my anger. The stench of Nahuel's fear was making my limbs shake and my head swim. I could feel his self-loathing radiating through our imprinting bond, leaving me a heartbeat away from total meltdown myself. Would this episode throw him into a tailspin? Would he lose whatever ground he'd gained in the past few weeks?

I had no idea what the hell I was going to do next. So I sat there on top of my imprint, my jaws still on his throat, and hated Charlie Swan almost as much as I'd once detested Sam.

When Seth walked into the kitchen, I'd never been happier to see the big blockhead in my life.

"Hey, Charlie! Didn't know you were stopping by," he said, stepping into the room with a welcoming grin on his face. He froze and took in the scene, shock warping his happy smile into a grimace. It must have been pretty mind-blowing: Nahuel prone on the floor with my jaws locked on his throat. Charlie, battered and bleeding, standing stupefied in the laundry room door. The debris of our kitchen table and chairs scattered on the floor around us.

Seth's jaw went slack and he gaped at us for several seconds. From behind his broad back, Mom's shocked gasp broke Seth's trance.

"Oh my God!" she cried, her eyes racing from me to Charlie. I never knew watching someone else's world crumble could be so painful, but my heart cracked when I saw the expression on my mother's face. I could see in her beautiful eyes the realization that nothing would ever be the same, or sane, again. She'd just stepped into her worst nightmare. At the sound of her voice, Charlie's eyes flashed to hers, but he said nothing. He didn't look like he would be capable of speech for a while yet.

Who would have thought Seth would be the one to take charge? His voice was quiet, calm and commanding.

"Mom, why don't you take Charlie into the bathroom and help him clean up?" he said, approaching Nahuel and me cautiously.

Maybe it was the tone of his voice, or just sheer amazement at Seth taking control, but my mother complied immediately. She went to Charlie silently, looped his arm over her shoulders and gently guided him down the hallway. Charlie was still so out of it he didn't utter a word of protest.

When the sound of the bathroom door shutting echoed softly down the hall, Seth pulled out his cell phone and speed-dialed. "Hey, man. We got a situation. Can you get here on all fours? Leah can explain while you're running. Thanks." He ended the call and looked at me. "Jake's on his way. He's going to phase and run, so you can fill him in on the way."

Seth took another careful step toward us, as if he were unsure which one of us would freak out first. "Leah, you can let go of Nahuel now." His voice was amazingly gentle and reassuring. Part of me was astonished that this was my kid brother talking. Another part of me was thinking "Fuck no, I'm not letting go."

A low growl rumbled from my throat. Seth didn't need to be in wolf form to know what that meant.

"Lee-lee, it's okay," he said calmly. "You can let Nahuel up. I'm going to take him outside to wait until Jake gets here. He'll probably feel better if he's out of the house right now, away from the blood."

I rolled my eyes down to look at Nahuel, which was hard to do since my teeth were still locked around his throat. He did seem calmer. Was it because Charlie's blood wasn't oozing in front of him anymore? Or that someone was finally taking charge? Or maybe, I thought with a chill, he'd just given up. Still, the image of his feral, snarling face when he'd gone for Charlie's throat burned behind my eyes. Would Seth be safe with him right now?

"It's okay," Seth repeated. He looked down at Nahuel. Then, as if my brother knew what I was thinking: "He's not going to bite me. Right, man?"

Nahuel hadn't looked away from me since the moment my teeth had closed around his neck. He didn't now, either, and his reply was clearly meant as much for me as it was for Seth.

"I will not bite you, Seth," he confirmed, his voice still hoarse from the pressure of my grip on his throat.

I slowly unclamped my jaws and moved off Nahuel's body. Seth reached down, grabbed Nahuel's hand and hoisted him to his feet. Nahuel looked weak and powerless next to my towering brother, two things that the past hour had proven he most definitely was not. Without another word, Seth steered him out the kitchen door.

Suddenly exhausted, I flopped on the floor right there in the middle of our kitchen, amid the debris of the table and chairs my father had bought my mother as an anniversary gift the year Seth was born. Holiday meals, intense family discussions, huge Sunday breakfasts, funeral planning—so much life, good and bad, had happened around that table. Now it was a symbol of the still-smoldering ruins of my life.

SSW/SSW/SSW

Sharing a pack mind makes explanations fast and simple. While I lay on the floor trying to pull myself back together, Jake phased and got the full replay of the whole horrifying scene. By the time he was done tabbing through my recent memories, he was striding through my kitchen door, pulling a T-shirt over his head.

"Why did Charlie pull his gun on Nahuel?" he asked, putting into coherent thought the confusion I'd been struggling with since I opened my eyes to see Charlie standing in the laundry room door.

Jake ducked into the laundry room, did a quick search, and came out carrying the least-dirty items he could find. He tossed them to me and turned his back so that I could have a semblance of privacy.

I phased where I sat and reached for the clothes. My heart spasmed when I saw the shirt he'd chosen. It was one of Nahuel's hand-me-downs, an expensive, silky pullover in a rich brown that matched the color of his eyes. It smelled of him, cinnamon and spice, comfort and wanting. Swallowing hard, I yanked it over my head, stood and jerked on the shorts before answering.

"I don't know," I said. "He just showed up with his gun in his hand. Nahuel wasn't doing anything that would justify Charlie's actions."

Okay, maybe that wasn't completely true, at least from Charlie's perspective. Jake already knew, thanks to our pack link, exactly what Charlie had walked in on. But I just couldn't believe seeing me topless and clinging to a guy he didn't know would inspire Charlie to wave a gun. It's not like he was my father, trying to protect my virtue.

Jake was apparently thinking along the same lines. "You think maybe he was just over-reacting to seeing you and Nahuel … together … like that?" He began picking up pieces of the table and chairs, stacking the splintered parts in the corner near the back door. After a few moments, he answered his own question. "No, I just can't see that. There's something else going on and we need to know what it is before we tell Charlie anything."

Like Seth, Jake was calm and confident. Gratitude swelled in my chest, bringing sudden, shameful moisture to my eyes. If anyone could fix this whole mess, it was Jake.

From the bathroom, I could hear the sound of running water, but no voices. Charlie and Mom weren't talking. I wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. Jake turned and walked quietly down the hall, pausing outside the bathroom door. He knocked softly and called my mother's name.

"Sue, can you and Charlie come into the living room?" Without waiting for her reply, he motioned for me to follow him. Like everything else in our house, our living room furniture was old but functional. The sleeper sofa was hard as a board, but my dad's old leather armchair was plush and comfy, if you ignored the torn spots Seth had patched with duct tape. I took a corner of the couch and left the armchair for Charlie.

Mom and Charlie entered the room. The blood smear was gone from Charlie's face and his torn uniform shirt had been replaced by one of Seth's few button-down shirts. It was way too big for Charlie, giving him a little-boy look that did nothing for his dignity.

Jake gestured to the armchair. At first, it looked like Charlie would refuse to sit. Then, he glanced at me, aftershocks of fear flitting through his eyes. He sat. Mom dropped down on the couch, but wedged herself into the corner as far from me as she could get. Her body language stung; it screamed blame and anger. The acrid aftertaste of bitterness burned the back of my tongue.

"Charlie, how are you?" Jake's tone was even and calm, as if he weren't addressing a man who'd just had his perception of reality radically, violently obliterated.

"That's a hell of a question for you to ask me," Charlie snapped. I guessed his shock and fear were finally morphing into anger. "I have a few questions of my own. Just how many other werewolves are there besides you and Leah? And who the hell is that psycho that Leah was swapping spit with?"

Mom's eyes flashed to me accusingly. My face felt like it was on fire, but I held my ground and glared at Charlie. "Who I 'swap spit' with is none of your damned business, Charlie," I growled. Part of me wanted to believe that Charlie was just being an intrusive asshole. But deep down, my inner wolf was screaming that there had to be more to it than that. That Charlie was leaving something out.

Jake crossed his arms over his chest and studied Charlie for a moment, considering his next words. "Charlie, obviously there's a lot more going on here than you were aware of," he began. "A lot of it is stuff you'd be better off not knowing. Before I can answer any of your questions—and I'm telling you right now I can't promise to answer all of them—I need to know why you pulled your gun on Sue's house guest."

Charlie chewed his mustache nervously, a habit that irritated the hell out of me. He glared at Jake for a long moment, apparently weighing whether he could get anything out of my Alpha by going into cop mode. The boy he'd been able to cow with police authority was long gone, however, grown into a man who was more than capable of standing up to Charlie's badge-bullying.

"Fine," he said, blowing out an exasperated sigh. "There was a murder in Port Angeles last night. Pretty gruesome. Victim had her throat ripped out. Body drained of blood. A witness gave a description that fit your boy."

"That's not possible," I gasped, my mind whirling. "Nahuel was here last night, with us."

Jake's heavy brows drew down over his dark eyes and he shot me a warning look that clearly said "shut up." His gaze returned to Charlie.

"So you came here looking for him? How did you know he was here?"

"I didn't," Charlie replied. "Didn't come here looking for him, either. Got an anonymous tip at the station that a stranger fitting the suspect's description was seen on the rez. I came here to warn Sue, Seth and Leah to keep their eyes open and their doors locked. When I got here, the kitchen door was wide open, but I didn't see any cars in the driveway. Made me think someone had broken in and was still here. So I drew my weapon and came in."

My mind raced. None of this made sense. The murder sounded like it could be the work of a vampire. But if that were true, how could there be a witness? What vampire would allow such a thing to _be_ witnessed, let alone leave the witness alive? And who could have reported seeing Nahuel on the rez? We'd been careful to keep him out of sight.

Charlie's gaze turned to me. "Guess you know the rest," he said, his tone dripping with accusation. My emotional kettle had been on slow simmer since Charlie parked his rump in my dad's favorite chair. His blame-filled tone stoked the fire under that kettle, until I was one pissy word away from boiling over.

"So what, you just walk into our home waving a gun? This isn't the Wild West and you're not Wyatt Earp, Charlie," I growled, struggling to get the words out around the rage steaming up through my throat. "You threated to shoot Nahuel!"

A mottled purple hue crept up Charlie's face from the neckline of his borrowed shirt. "Yeah, well it looks like I was right to be suspicious. There's a hell of a lot more going on here than I ever imagined," he shot back.

I could feel my temper teetering, the thin thread of my self-control stretching. Charlie turned on my mother.

"I always knew you were keeping something from me." He was shouting now, the fear and shock of the past hour finally finding an outlet and a target. Mom cringed and shrank further back into the couch cushions. Normally, she was more than capable of standing up for herself. Instead, she wilted under the heat of Charlie's anger.

He pelted her with questions so quickly it was clear he wasn't really interested in answers, only in venting. "Leah is like Jake? Is that it? A … a _werewolf_? Is Seth one, too? Are _you_? Did Harry know, or did you lie to him for years, too?" Charlie pushed to his feet, fury and stress etched in every line of his lanky frame. "And what the hell are you doing, letting that psycho stay in Harry's house?"

It was the second time he'd used that word to refer to my imprint. My temper wasn't going to let me sit by and listen to him say it again. Without knowing how I got there, I was suddenly on my feet and nose to nose with Charles Swan, top cop of Forks' finest.

"Yeah, Charlie, I'm like Jake," I hissed. Charlie didn't know _anything_ about fury. I'd cornered the market on pissed off years ago, and I was an expert at riding a wave of rage straight down into total disaster. "I'm _just_ like Jake. So is Seth. And if you want to know what Nahuel is, why don't you go talk to your daughter and son-in-law? Because Nahuel is _just_ like Renesmee."

"Leah!" My mother gasped, her hands flying to cover her mouth as if she could somehow snatch back the words I'd just said.

The purple color drained from Charlie's face, leaving his skin chalky white. A fine sheen of sweat erupted on his forehead. His eyes opened impossibly wide. I held my breath and counted my heartbeats, wondering how many would pass before Charlie would crash to the floor in cardiac arrest. His mouth opened and closed, as if he were trying to mimic one of the thousands of fish he'd pulled from the water over the years. His breathing became arrhythmic, intermittent, and then stopped for more seconds than I thought a human could go without oxygen.

For the briefest second, guilt flared in my gut. Just as quickly, it evaporated. There was no way I was going to let Charlie's desire to stay in the dark where he thought it was safe threaten Nahuel in any way. _Time to get our head out of your ass, Charlie._

The fact that Charlie could pull himself together enough to speak at all said volumes about his character. I had to give him grudging respect for that.

"Jacob," he rasped, "is there something you want to tell me?"

When Jake didn't immediately respond, Charlie finally tore his eyes from mine and zeroed in on my Alpha. Hard to imagine he could look more appalled than he already did, but somehow he managed it. "Jake?" His voice actually cracked.

Jake was smart. He was cautious, diplomatic, patient … basically everything I could never hope to be. He knew exactly what was riding on his response to Charlie's question. For sure he was furious at me for giving up Renesmee's secret, but he wasn't going to show it and let Charlie see a fissure in our united front. And he wasn't going to take it on himself to decide what to tell Charlie, not without consulting with the leech in-laws first.

"Charlie," he said carefully, using a tone doctors usually reserved for the most emotionally fragile patients, "I think you need to talk to Bella and Edward."

Charlie didn't say another word. He marched past Jake and out the front door, leaving it open behind him. The police cruiser's engine turned over, and we heard the sound of tires tossing gravel into the air. Silent tears streaked down my mother's cheeks. The atmosphere in the room had the same heavy, oppressive feeling it gets just before a thunderstorm rolls in.

Finally, Jake broke the silence, pulling out his cell phone and hitting the speed dial for Bella. "Well, hell. That didn't go like I hoped it would."

SSW/SSW/SSW

I found Seth and Nahuel behind the woodshed. Still shirtless, Nahuel was sitting with his back pressed to the wall, as if he needed the support to stay upright. His knees were bent slightly and his forearms rested on his thighs, hands loosely clasped in his lap. He looked almost as bad as he had the first time I saw him in the Cullen house.

Seth stood beside Nahuel, one shoulder pressed to the shed wall. Neither said a word as I approached. When I reached them and stopped, Seth gave me an encouraging smile and headed back to the house. I tried not to think about the cell phone conversation Jake was having right now with Bella and Edward. I'd never been high on their list of favorite werewolves, and I'm sure my name was rotating even further down that roster right now.

I stood in front of Nahuel, unsure of what to say. How did you comfort someone who nearly killed your wanna-be stepfather? Were you even supposed to try?

He didn't look up at me, but his voice was clear and surprisingly steady when he spoke. "I am sorrier than I can say, Leah. Of course, Sue had told me about Charlie, but I did not realize who he was …." He trailed off and looked up at me. I groaned at the remorse and guilt I saw swimming in his teak-toned eyes.

"When I saw the gun, when I smelled his blood, I lost control."

_Captain Obvious,_ I thought. Instead, I said: "Yeah, I kind of got that."

"If you hadn't stopped me, I would have lost what little humanity I have. I would have murdered someone Sue loves and destroyed everything the Cullens have built here." I hated the lost, resigned tone in his voice.

He looked down at his hands, those magnificent hands that such a short time ago had transported me to a very happy place. Like a little boy trying to occupy his mind while sitting in time out, he picked at a thumbnail, digging at his cuticle with a viciousness that was in direct contrast to his quiet, contrite tone.

"Of course, you will want me to leave now," he said. "Sue will not want me in her home any longer. Perhaps the Cullens would be able to accept me. Or perhaps it would be better for me to leave Forks altogether. "

Acute, searing pain stabbed through my chest, radiating outward from the latch-point of that damned psychic cable. "No!" I didn't mean to shout. My voice, my breathing, the whole situation—everything seemed like it was slipping from my control.

He looked up from his self-abuse, his almond eyes wide, first with surprise and then with what looked like might be the stirrings of hope. I was desperate to fan that spark.

I dropped to my knees in front of him, pushed his arms out of my way and climbed into his lap, right there in the dirt behind my father's woodshed. Straddling his legs, I grabbed him by the ears.

"Stop. It. Right. Now." I commanded, punctuating each word with a rough shake. I hated the taint of hysteria that I could hear edging into my voice. "You are not fucking going _anywhere_. I won't allow it. Do you understand?"

Relief dawned on his beautiful face, and I thought he might kiss me again. I _wanted_ him to kiss me again. Instead he crushed me to his chest and buried his face against my neck. He gripped me so tightly his arms shook, so tightly he'd have cracked my ribs if I'd been a human woman.

Then again, if I'd been human, I'd be running in the opposite direction right now, wouldn't I? I'd have split the first time he admitted—in a roundabout way—that he'd once fed on humans. I'd have screamed bloody murder when he tried to kill my mother's boyfriend.

But I was a werewolf, and he was my imprint. So instead of all the things a human woman would do, I simply wrapped my arms around him and returned his embrace.

"Thank you. Thank you." He crooned the words over and over again into my shoulder, his voice a raw, ragged whisper. "Ñi piuque, thank you." Was he thanking me for not sending him away? Or for stopping him from killing Charlie? Maybe both.

Jake's shout and the thudding of two sets of footsteps broke us apart. I climbed off Nahuel's lap and was on my feet by the time Jake rounded the corner of the woodshed with Seth two steps behind him.

"Alice had a vision," he barked, in full Alpha mode. "Charlie's on his way to confront Edward and Bella. An intruder is going to attack his car on the way. She thinks it's one of Joham's newborns."

Nahuel rose and stood beside me, seemingly unaffected by his father's name. Maybe I'd actually been able to head off his back-sliding.

"We're closer to the attack scene than the Cullens. We'll get there first, but we have to go now," Jake said, tossing his cell phone to Nahuel. "You too. We need someone who can stay on the phone with Alice while we run. "When we get there, you stay back, out of the fighting. Let us handle this."

We phased on the run. Beside me, Nahuel moved with fluid grace and speed, effortlessly keeping pace. After the emotional turmoil of the past few hours, running was a release. I felt the tension melt away from my muscles, replaced by that powerful readiness that I always felt before a fight.

I couldn't take back the words that I'd shouted at Charlie, words that had changed everything for everyone. All I could do was run, and hope we got there in time to save the man my mother loved.

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><p><strong><em>End Note: <em>**_Okay, so hopefully Leah and I aren't the only ones who had trouble swallowing Charlie's acceptance of the whole "need to know" thing in BD. As a parent and a professional investigator, he should have been a wee bit more inquisitive, don't you think? Thanks for reading and keep those reviews coming. I promise the next update will be very soon!_


	10. Run

**_A/N:_**_ I promised a quicker update with this chapter and here it is. Credit goes to my amazing betas, MunkeeRajah and Evelyn, who reviewed this chapter at warp speed. I love them more than Jacob's abs! I actually had this chapter "in the can" and was going to hold it a bit longer, but then I looked at my own favorites list and noticed that a couple stories I'm following haven't updated since April and May, and I just couldn't do that to you folks. So here it is, a bit earlier than planned. Thanks to everyone who's reading, reviewing and following this story._

_Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight._

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><p>Chapter 10 – Run<p>

**Leah POV**

… _myfaultmyfaultmyfaultmyfault …_

Self-blame pounded through my head, beating in counterpoint to the thud of three sets of paws as Seth, Jake and I raced through the towering trees. Beside us, Nahuel's footfalls raised quiet splashes on the soggy forest floor. The morning's drizzle had turned into a steady rain—gotta love Washington. The background static of rainfall muted all other sounds, but it couldn't overpower my inner monologue.

My initial relief at actually _doing_ something—instead of just waiting for Joham to make a move—had faded fast. Its rapid retreat left a whole lot of room for guilt to move in, and I was wallowing in it. I didn't regret forcing Charlie to face the truth about his family. But even I had to admit that my delivery and timing, less than an hour after he'd nearly had his throat ripped out by a half-vampire, were not the best.

Charlie was unknowingly speeding toward a rendezvous with a savage newborn, and my big mouth had set him on that course. If he were killed because of me, no treaty, no ties of familial affection, would be enough to keep Bella, Edward, and possibly even Renesmee, from coming after me. The wolf packs would have no choice but to intervene. The peace Jake had worked so hard to nurture over the past six years would be over, all because of my temper.

I would have fucked things up even worse than Charlie had.

… _myfaultmyfaultmyfaultmyfault …_

_Cut the crap, Leah._ Jake's reprimand sliced cleanly through my mental self-flagellation. _Keep your head in the game. Alice said we'd get there in time._

_In time for what, though?_ Seth wondered, replaying our pack memory of Alice's frantic call to Jake.

Alice had seen Charlie decide to confront Bella and Edward at the Cullens' house. She had seen the newborn's decision—although not the motive behind it—to attack Charlie's cruiser on an isolated stretch of highway. Her vision went blank, however, immediately after the newborn made contact with Charlie's car.

_That's because we get there and block her vision,_ Jake insisted. _That's the only explanation. She can't see what happens next because we're there with Nahuel and she can't see around us. We'll be in time._

Unaware of our mental conversation, Nahuel moved fluidly and gracefully beside us. I wondered if he felt uncomfortable being around three giant wolves, if the smell of wet wolf was offensive to him. Was he afraid of the coming confrontation? What if Joham showed up? I knew Nahuel wasn't ready to face his father, the beast who had tortured him and murdered his aunt.

Jake's phone rang in Nahuel's hand. He answered it without breaking stride, his voice even and smooth. "Yes." He hadn't bothered to put on a shirt before we left the house, and I couldn't help but admire the lithe movement of muscle beneath his coffee-and-cream skin. Seth caught that observation and his astonishment rang through our pack link. I ignored him. By now, even my bone-headed brother had to know something was up between Nahuel and me, but I sure wasn't going into it with him right now.

Nahuel listened for a few seconds, then ended the call. "Alice says the newborn has decided on a different route, one that will intersect Charlie's path sooner. Edward and Bella are on their way, but will not make it in time. We need to be faster."

_Want me to?_ I asked Jake. He knew I'd been holding back to keep pace with him and Seth. I was smaller than my hulking pack brothers and possibly less strong because of it (although I would never admit it to them), but the trade-off was that I was also a lot faster. I could get to the scene well before they could. I probably wouldn't be able to take out the newborn by myself, but I would be able to protect Charlie long enough for the big boys to arrive. That could make all the difference.

Jake thought it over for less than a second. _Yes. Take the highway. _

I didn't question his order. I'd move faster if I was making a straight run and not dodging trees. We'd just have to hope that I wouldn't be seen. I broke left, quickly leaving my pack brothers and my imprint behind. I thought I heard Nahuel shout my name, but I didn't slow my pace. Back at my house, before phasing, Jake had given Nahuel strict orders to hang back and stay out of the fighting. I had to have faith that Nahuel would do as he'd been told, that Seth and Jake would take care of him. And I had to seize the opportunity to make up for my fuck-up by saving Charlie.

We'd been running parallel to the highway, and my paws hit rain-darkened macadam less than a minute after I left the guys behind. With nothing in front of me but open road, I picked up speed, pushing everything else from my mind but the mechanics of running.

_Front paws touch ground, push asphalt under and behind. Hind paws whip forward, strike down, propel. Tail held just so for balance and stability. Ears flat, minimizing wind resistance. The abrasion of asphalt against paw pads. The layered scents of tar, exhaust, rain and faintly, but growing stronger, Charlie._

I was so focused on my movement that I almost ran up the tail pipe of Charlie's cruiser before I realized I'd made it. The newborn was nowhere in sight. I flanked the car, moving quickly to run beside the driver's side door. I'm not sure I had any kind of plan, but Charlie must have seen me out of the corner of his eye. His head swiveled to the left, his startled gaze locking on mine.

Maybe the surprise of seeing a huge, soaked wolf running beside his car, its eyes at a level with his, freaked Charlie out. Maybe he didn't realize it was me. Whatever the reason, he jerked the car to the right, away from me. The right front tire skidded off the wet pavement, picking up dirt and gravel from the shoulder of the road and spraying it into the air.

Plowing through that shower of stone and grit, the newborn struck. It hit the passenger's side of the cruiser with a sound and a shockwave as loud and powerful as a sonic boom.

Like something out of the pivotal chase scene of a bad action movie, everything slowed down and played out in agonizing detail. I saw the right side of the cruiser crumple from the impact and both front-seat airbags inflate. The momentum sent Charlie's head crashing against the driver's side window, which shattered with a loud crack. The car lurched toward me as the newborn continued to push it across the highway.

_Shit! Move! _

I coiled my hindquarters and jumped. I managed to get up and over the roof of the car just as the newborn's blow pushed the heavy vehicle over the pavement where I'd been running. My claws scrabbled on the rain-slicked roof. The sickeningly sweet stench of vampire assaulted my nostrils. I saw a flash of hate-filled, blood-red eyes just before I slid down the other side of the car tail-first.

Right on top of the newborn.

And holy crap, was it big. I mean, bigger-than -Emmett _huge_. Bigger than that Volturi guard that Aro always sent to do his dirty work. Was there such a thing as steroids for leeches? Because if there was, this undead fucker was definitely on them.

I didn't have time to think or plan or strategize. I didn't even have time to bend over and kiss my ass good-bye. As soon as my fur made contact with the newborn's cold, hard flesh, I began clawing and biting, twisting and squirming, desperately trying to sink my teeth into it without allowing it to get a hold on me.

The scent of Charlie's blood soaked the air now, overpowering the dank odor of the rain. A small part of my brain wondered how badly he was hurt. The bigger part realized that his blood was making the newborn crazy, and I could possibly use that to my advantage. The distraction was just enough to give me a tiny opening, and I sank my fangs into the top of the tick's skull. This thing was so damn big that I thought for a second it would ignore me completely. I planted all four paws on its shoulders and pulled for all I was worth.

I actually thought I might be making progress toward popping its head off. Until the damn thing reached up over its head and grabbed my forelegs just below my shoulders. Icy fingers dug into my flesh, easily piercing through fur and hide.

The newborn backed away from the cruiser, seeking room to maneuver. Snarling, it started to lift me up and forward, trying to bring me over its head, in front of it. I remembered what had happened to Jake when one of Victoria's newborns had gotten its arms around him. If this leech got me in front of it, it would crush me. The situation was now the true definition of a deadlock—we were locked together and one of us was definitely going to end up dead. Unfortunately, it was starting to look like that would be me.

Stomach-churning pain radiated out from my shoulders and through my body, but I refused to give up my bite on the leech's scalp. I spread my toes and tried to dig into its shoulders with my claws, but I felt my body being drawn forward. I probably had seconds left before it got me where it wanted me. Had I bought enough time? Maybe I'd delayed the newborn just enough to let the others arrive before it could get to Charlie.

My paws lost their grip on the blood-sucker's shoulders. I was out of time. As the newborn pulled me forward, one thought crystalized through the chaos in my head: Would Nahuel finally feel the ache of that damned psychic cable when my dead body was at the other end of it?

Something hard, heavy and hot slammed into me painfully, ripping me away from the newborn. Clumps of my fur and skin stayed behind in the blood-sucker's hands as I was torn from its grasp. I tumbled tail over teacups across the highway. I landed belly-down on the grassy shoulder of the road, with that heavy, warm missile on top of me. Electricity sang along my nerve endings everywhere that weight touched my body.

Cinnamon and spice. Comfort and longing. _Nahuel_.

Apparently, the cavalry had arrived. Across the pavement, Jake and Seth were engaging the newborn. It was already missing one arm; as big as it was, it was still no match for two wolves the size of my Alpha and kid brother. Each had another limb clenched in his teeth, slowly tearing the appendages off.

Suddenly, Edward was there. He sprang atop the newborn, taking the same position I'd held just moments before. I saw his teeth flash briefly, his head dip toward the other vamp's throat. With a sound like ripping metal, the newborn's head separated from its shoulders, and the hulking body collapsed, twitching, to the ground.

Seth and Jake stepped away, each still holding a severed limb. Seth spat his out on the asphalt, choking and gagging like a cat trying to hack up a hairball.

Bella had already ripped the door off the mangled cruiser. I could hear her low, urgent voice telling Charlie to hold on. I doubted he heard her. Carlisle's Mercedes lurched to a halt beside the wreck, Renesmee behind the wheel. Carlisle leapt from the passenger's side, medical bag in hand. He rushed to Bella's side. Renesmee left the driver's side door open and flew into Edward's arms.

_Good work, Leah._ Jake and Seth were calmly dragging the dismembered pieces of newborn to the cruiser, pushing the fragments under the car. I knew when Charlie was free of the wreck and on his way to the hospital, they would light those pieces and let the fire destroy all the evidence, including the mangled car. _You okay?_ Jake asked.

_Mostly. _

I hurt all over and the two raw patches on my front legs oozed blood. Nahuel had moved off me and was now running his hands over my legs and body, searching for breaks and wounds. Still dazed, I wondered why the scent of my blood wasn't bothering him. Maybe he didn't care for eau du dog? Though I knew his touch was meant to be purely clinical, my flesh tingled beneath the fur everywhere his hands trailed their current over me. _Jesus. Even when I'm a dog, he has this effect on me._

Suddenly, Carlisle was there, gently pushing Nahuel out of the way. His examination was quick and efficient.

"No broken bones, although you probably have a bruised rib or two," he said, then chuckled. "I'd say to go home and put some salve and bandages on those abrasions, but knowing wolf metabolism, I expect they'll be healed by the time you get there. You need to rest, but you should be fine in a few hours."

Edward's designer shoes appeared in front of me and I looked up at him, expecting anger and accusation. I figured I deserved at least a little of both. Of course, he picked that thought out of my mind.

"You're right that you deserve my anger," he said, but his voice was mild. "Charlie's ignorance was for his own safety. You had no right to take that from him. Thanks to you, it's going to be impossible to keep him in the dark any longer."

His eyes flicked to Nahuel for a second, then back to me. I held my breath, waiting for him to give me away. But when he spoke again, his reference to my imprint was so veiled I was sure no one else would have caught it. "Still, your actions were … understandable. And your quick intervention helped save Charlie's life. Carlisle says Charlie's wounds are superficial. So let's call everything even, shall we?"

And then he was gone, with Carlisle, loading Charlie's unconscious form into the Mercedes. I was relieved that he wasn't going to hold my paws to the fire over all this. I wasn't sure that Bella would be so forgiving, however. She shot me an angry glare before jumping into the backseat of the vehicle beside Charlie and Carlisle. Edward left a long strip of rubber on the road as he peeled away. _Typical Cullen driving._

_All right, Leah, you and Nahuel head back to your house,_ Jake directed. _Send Sue to the hospital. She'll want to be with Charlie. Seth, Ness and I will clean up here. Then we'll head over to the hospital, too. I'm sure Bella and Edward will want me there when Charlie wakes up._

_Will do, boss man. _The aftermath of the crisis was finally hitting me. I was shaky and exhausted with the aftershock. I wanted to wash the newborn's stink off, and my body needed a nap to facilitate my accelerated healing. I stood up, and Nahuel rose beside me, his hand lightly brushing my back. For the first time since he tore me from the newborn's hands, I looked at his face … and yipped softly in surprise at what I saw there.

He was pissed. Royally pissed. White-lipped, narrow-eyed, nostril-flaring, shaking with rage _pissed off_.

_What the hell did I do this time?_

Or course, being without human vocal chords at the moment, I couldn't ask him what his problem was. His fury-filled eyes flicked to the others. Jake and Seth had finished stacking tick parts under the wreck. Renesmee had moved the Mercedes several hundred yards down the road, away from the crash site, and was walking back with a lighter in her hand.

Nahuel's angry glare returned to me. Without a word, he twisted his fingers into the fur between my shoulder blades and tugged me toward the trees in the direction we'd come from. Back toward the reservation. Toward home.

SSW/SSW/SSW

Mom was just climbing into her beat-up old Buick when we stepped out of the trees. When she saw us, she paused, one hand on the car door, and watched us approach. Her eyes were wary, and I hated the guarded expression on her face. I had to talk to her before she left. I had to apologize and tell her myself that Charlie was going to be okay. I phased without a thought for my nudity and launched myself into her arms.

Her arms closed around me immediately and relief swept through my body. "I'm so sorry, Mom," I babbled. "I shouldn't have said anything. I was just so mad. I've ruined everything, but Charlie's going to be okay. I'm so sorry …."

She shushed me and then pushed back out of my arms. She gently cupped my cheek, waiting for me to meet her eyes. "I know, Leah. I'm sorry, too, for how I reacted. Everything is going to be fine. I'm going to the hospital to be with Charlie." Her eyes drifted over my shoulder and her body stiffened. Heat surged up my spine as I realized Nahuel must have come to stand very close to us.

"Sue, I have far more to apologize for than Leah does." His voice was low, rough and regretful. "I am ashamed by the lack of control I displayed with Charlie. I have no right to ask for your forgiveness right now, but I hope you will give me the chance to regain your trust."

Mom's lips pressed into a tight line, and the wary look was back in her eyes. She didn't speak, but gave him a curt nod before returning her gaze to me. She had battled a lifetime of prejudices to accept Nahuel for my sake. I couldn't blame her if his attack on Charlie had revived her innate distrust of vampires. My imprint would have his work cut out for him rebuilding his friendship with my mother.

"You need to deal with this," she said, and I knew she wasn't referring to my temper—or at least not _just_ my temper. She pulled me down to press a kiss on my forehead, climbed into the car and slammed the door. Without another word, she drove away.

Although my back was to him, I was intensely aware of how close Nahuel was to my very naked body. I still didn't know what had made him so angry back at the crash scene. But the encounter with Mom seemed to have distracted him, and I saw an opportunity to dodge another confrontation with him.

I drew a shaky breath and barked over my shoulder. "I'm going to take a shower." I double-time marched into the house, giving him a brief view of my amazing ass. I paused long enough to grab some clothes from my room before slipping into the bathroom. Nahuel appeared to still be outside, and I debated with myself for half a second before deciding to lock the bathroom door behind me.

The hot water felt wonderful on my sore muscles, and Carlisle had been right; the wounds on my arms were almost completely healed already. I'd just finished the first round of lather, rinse and repeat when I heard a loud metallic popping sound. _What the hell was that? _I reached for the shower curtain to take a peek … and squeaked like a scared little girl when the curtain was yanked aside.

Nahuel stood with his knees against the low side of the tub, the broken bathroom doorknob in one hand and the shower curtain, now ripped off its rings, in the other. Droplets of water bounced off my body and onto his face and naked chest. I couldn't look away as one lucky drop traveled down his perfect abdomen to pool in his navel. My eyes shot up to his and my breath caught.

The anger was back, but there was also something else there in his eyes. Something I hadn't seen since that night on the beach: raw, driving lust.

The doorknob clattered on the bathroom floor. His eyes never left mine as he stepped into the tub, still wearing his jeans and shoes. Feeling crowded and breathless, I backpedalled a slippery step until the shower wall blocked me. Water spilled down over Nahuel's dark hair and face, but he made no move to wipe the drops out of his eyes.

_Christ, he's even more gorgeous wet!_

He continued to press forward until my naked, quivering body was firmly sandwiched between his delicious heat and the coolness of the tile at my back. In typical Nahuel fashion, his nimble, warm hands immediately began roving over my skin.

My arms were squashed between us, bent at the elbow. Without actually deciding to do it, I dropped the soap and bath sponge I'd been holding. I ached to touch him, and I pressed my tingling palms to his chest. Then it occurred to me that there was a much better part of my body—okay, _two_ parts, really—that I'd like to rub against his chest. Before I could act on that thought, however, I realized he was saying something. I shook my lust-addled head, trying to focus on his words.

_Oh yeah, that's right. He's still pissed at me. _

"You left me behind." His voice was a lethal hiss, just barely audible over the rushing noise of the shower. His hands slid roughly up my sides, trailing wet, scalding heat from my hips to my ribs. "You gave me a promise and then left me without fulfilling it."

_What's he talking about? What promise? _

"If I am not allowed to die, neither are you. Not until you have kept your promise." My legs had been shaking since he stepped into the tub with me, and they completely gave out when his thigh pushed between mine. He pressed his leg forward, taking my full weight as I rode that magnificent, muscled thigh. The friction of his jeans against my sensitive flesh sent waves of desire spiraling through my entire body. Was it possible to spontaneously combust when you were soaking wet?

_WHAT promise? _

"If you intend to take such risks with your safety, I am unwilling to wait any longer."

His hands continued moving, one snaking up to span my jaw, holding my head immobile. The other slid behind me to cup my ass and pull me more firmly against the bulge in his jeans. Even through the wet material I could feel his heat. I was gasping now, gulping in lungful after lungful of his spice-scented breath. When he spoke again, I barely registered his words before his mouth seized mine and reality fell away in a shower of flame.

"I will no longer accept 'not now' as your answer."

_Oh! THAT promise. _


	11. Heaven's in Here

**_A/N: _**_After the way I left Leah (and everyone else) hanging at the end of Chapter 10, the last thing you probably want to read is a long note from me. So a shout out to my bodacious betas, MunkeeRajah and Evelyn, and on with the story._

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><p>Chapter 11 – Heaven's in Here<p>

**Leah POV**

I could have quibbled.

Even as Nahuel's mouth devoured my resistance, even as desire swamped my senses—I had it in me to point out that I'd never really _promised_ him sex. As every nerve ending fired simultaneously with the sheer, raw need to merge my body with his, a caustic little voice at the base of my brain stem shrilled that I'd made no such pledge, that I was under no obligation to let him fuck me.

I acknowledged that voice: _Yes, I'm a bitch. But I'm not a stupid bitch._

I wanted him, and I was done fighting this. What he was doing with his hands and mouth made it difficult to remember why I'd ever thought I needed to hold him off in the first place.

With the five functioning brain cells I had left, I reasoned that maybe Jake was right. Maybe I _could_ be enough to hold Nahuel here. After all, he'd risked his own life, overcome his fear of everything connected to his father, to rescue me from the newborn's claws. He must feel something, right?

I could tell the exact moment Nahuel realized he'd won. He shivered against me, and I could feel his angry tension slough away with the tremor. His hands stilled, his lips left mine and he pulled back just far enough to allow me to refocus on his eyes. They were dark, hungry and triumphant. His sensual lips curled into a knowing smile.

I snaked my hands into his hair and tried to draw his mouth back to mine, but he resisted, watching me, as if waiting to see what I would do next. I settled for lapping up the drops of water clinging to his jawline, working my way down his neck. I bore down on his thigh, craving more of the delicious friction. Now that I'd made my choice, I couldn't get close enough, fast enough.

I was twisting like a contortionist, trying to lick his chest while still pressing as much of my naked skin against his as possible. I gave up my hold on his head and fumbled at the waistband of his jeans. He chuckled—a throaty, smug sound—and his long fingers wrapped around mine, stilling my hands.

"Patience, ñi piuque," he laughed, nuzzling the top of my head. "I have no intention of taking you quickly against the shower wall like an impatient adolescent."

With that vampire speed that I always somehow under-estimated, he turned off the water, drew my legs around his waist, and had us out of the shower and down the hallway before I could get my arms around his neck to hold on. I heard my bedroom door slam shut behind us just before he dropped me, soaking wet, onto my bed.

Dazed, I sat up, wiping water from my eyes and wondering why the hell he wasn't already on top of me.

He laughed again at my dazed expression. His eyes never left my face as his hands moved to the waistband of his jeans. The slow, descending whisper of that zipper was hypnotic. I knew from experience that getting out of wet denim was not easy, but like everything else he did, Nahuel made it look graceful and sexy as hell. I watched his jeans slither down his long, muscular legs, pooling at his feet. His sopping boxers quickly followed with a soft splat on the wooden floor. My eyes traveled back up his body, snagging when they reached crotch level. I drew a low, appreciative gasp through my teeth.

_Wow._ Clearly, I was not the only one eager for this.

I didn't even realize I was climbing off the bed and reaching for him until Nahuel held up a hand. "Patience," he repeated, stepping slowly away from the puddle of wet denim. "You have kept me waiting a very long time. I intend to take my time enjoying you." His words sent a wave of joint-loosening desire through my body, and I sank back on the bed, my knees too weak to stand.

He stalked forward, stopping when his legs brushed the side of the bed. Slowly, like the predatory cat he was named for, he climbed onto the bed. He crawled over me, and I fell back, the heat of his body pressing me down onto the mattress as surely as if he'd put his hands on me.

That snotty little mind-voice spoke up again and popped out of my mouth before I could silence it. "Not _that_ long. Barely a week."

He paused above me, something I couldn't quite identify flickering briefly in the depths of his golden brown eyes. Hazily, I tried to put a name to that ghost of emotion, but it was almost impossible to think of anything beyond the electricity crackling in the air between us. It seemed like that flicker could be important.

For the first time since he'd interrupted my shower, he avoided meeting my eyes. "You are wrong. I have waited more than a hundred years for you."

He caught my gasp with his lips, consuming my questions before I could give them voice, stripping me of any thoughts other than the desire to feel him inside me. I writhed beneath him, sure this luscious heat would burn me to ash if he wasted too much time with foreplay.

For days he'd been teasing me with tantalizing touches, copping a feel every chance he got. Now that I was giving him full access, he was progressing frustratingly, torturously slow. His tongue wove lazy, exploratory swirls around mine. Poised above me on his hands and knees, he held his body inches from mine, but even that wasn't close enough for me. When he pulled his mouth from mine and began scattering silky kisses down my throat, I groaned and clutched at his shoulders. I was so crazed to touch him I didn't know where to put my hands first.

His breast-fondling session this morning had been one of the most erotic experiences of my life, but the sensation of his lips and tongue on my breast, well that was just life-altering. A low rumble vibrated against my skin as he drew my nipple into his mouth.

_Is he … purring?_

Nahuel shifted his weight to the side and lowered himself to the mattress, aligning his body beside mine, giving his hands and lips better access. Vamp-boy was apparently a sexual multi-tasker, because as his tongue caressed my nipple, his hand moved south. Feather-light, he traced a twisting path down my abdomen, circling my navel before flattening his broad palm just above the low hairline.

I was panting now, digging my fingers into his tautly muscled shoulders, anticipation singing through my veins. His lips left my nipple with a soft sucking sound and he laid his head on my stomach, watching the movement of his own hand as he continued his explorations.

When one long finger slid into my slick folds, my eyes rolled back into my head and I moaned my encouragement. He paused and withdrew his finger. _What? Nonononono! Put it back!_

My head snapped up and my eyes opened to find him studying the wetness on his finger. I propped myself up on my elbows as his questioning eyes found mine.

"You are wet." It was somewhere between a question and a statement. An improbable mixture of wonder and hunger saturated his voice.

I was confused. A bizarre, unbelievable thought occurred to me, and I wanted to discount it. He was a hundred-fifty years old and beautiful beyond belief. Surely, there was no way I was right, but his bafflement forced the words out of me. "Have you never … _done_ this … before?"

Chagrin swarmed over his perfect features, and if his coffee-and-cream skin tone would have allowed it, I was sure he would have blushed. "Many, many times," he replied too quickly. I arched an eyebrow at him and waited one beat. Two. Three.

"With female vampires," he continued, looking away from my eyes. "I have never been with a human woman before."

I'd seen him enraged, terrified, despondent, aroused and even playful, but I'd not seen Nahuel embarrassed until this moment. Though my body still burned with lust, that damned psychic cable was tugging plaintively, demanding that I ease his discomfort.

"That's okay," I told him, trying to give him my best sexy-but-reassuring smile. "We're even; I've never been with a half-vampire before."

A boyish grin broke across his flawless face and my heart soared. I gestured toward his damp fingers. "This is normal, you know. It's just my body's reaction to yours. Is this alright?" Hoping he wouldn't find my humanness disgusting.

He dropped his head back to my stomach, laughing, burrowing his nose against my abdomen. "It is very alright. I am not ignorant of normal human physiology. I have just never experienced it first-hand before. I did not realize it would be so very … arousing."

His fingers returned to their exploration, and in seconds he had my body straining and humming again. Passion apparently hadn't completely overwhelmed his curiosity yet. He repositioned himself so that he lay between my spread legs, bringing his eyes level with his fascinating discovery. His hot hands gently pressed my thighs apart. I was totally exposed, on display for his probing, and I probably should have been at least a little annoyed at being treated like a science experiment during such an intimate moment. But everything he did felt erotic to me. Everything about Nahuel drew me in.

With one hand he gently massaged my trembling thigh. The fingers of his other hand were now coated with my moisture. Part of me wanted to just give myself over to the sensations those clever fingers were creating, to let my eyes clench shut and my head fall back. But if I did that, I would miss watching the play of awe and lust on his beautiful face. It was a sight I wanted to savor and remember for the rest of my life.

Slowly, he slid one long finger fully inside me. I was no virgin, but there'd been no one since Sam. Body parts that had been dormant for six years were leaping to life, and the delicious stretching felt as new and intoxicating as my first time. When my inner muscles spasmed around his finger, his breathing faltered. He lowered his face toward the spot where his fingers were working their magic and inhaled deeply. He muttered something I couldn't understand, then pinned me with his heated gaze.

"I will never tire of that fragrance, not if I spend a hundred years savoring it," he whispered. "I wonder … do you taste as good?"

He dipped his lips to kiss me intimately, his tongue replacing his fingers. Sam and I had been together two years, and this was something he'd never expressed any desire for. He'd done it once or twice, but it had always felt like something he was doing as a favor to me, rather than an act we could both enjoy. Nahuel delved between my thighs enthusiastically, lapping and sucking like a starving man who'd just been served a four-course gourmet meal.

With just a few strokes of his tongue across my sensitized flesh, the coil of tension that had been slowly winding tighter and tighter contracted once, twice and then snapped. Pleasure blazed outward from the point where his lips moved on me, burning through every nerve ending, consuming coherent thought, blasting my awareness into the stratosphere. As if from a great distance, I heard my own voice shouting my delirium.

Slowly, drifting like smoke above embers, I returned to consciousness. You would think after such a mind-shattering orgasm, I'd be exhausted, or at the very least satisfied. But my need for Nahuel was simply too intense to be quelled so quickly and easily. I wasn't content, wasn't done—not even close. When the pleasure receded, it left behind an overwhelming physical and emotional craving to feel him inside me.

Nahuel was still resting between my thighs, stroking my quivering flesh tenderly, cautiously, obviously waiting to see how quickly I'd recover so he could begin again. I thrust my hands between my thighs, sank my fingers into his hair and pulled. Startled, he raised his head and met my eyes.

What he saw there must have pleased him, because he pushed my legs farther apart and levered himself up to kneel between them. He bent at the waist to capture my lips again; the rapture of his mouth on mine instantly reignited the fire in my body. He draped my legs over his thighs and the tip of his erection finally nudged against me.

_At last!_

But vamp-boy wasn't done driving me mad. I wanted him to plunge into me, to fuck me hard and fast. Instead, he seemed determined to draw things out. He pushed forward oh-so-slowly, barely stretching me before withdrawing for a heartbeat, only to resume his excruciatingly slow invasion.

I'm not a patient woman, and Nahuel was making me crazy. Frustration bowed my back, forcing my pelvis against his, and arching my body off the bed. Still he held back, barely penetrating me. I felt frenzied with desire so intense it was almost painful. I clutched at his hard thighs and groaned. "Christ, baby. You're killing me."

And that fast, he was gone, off the bed and across the room, slamming his back against my bedroom door.

I flopped on my bed like a turtle flipped on its back, desperate and powerless, feeling fatally foolish.

I didn't know how long it took my mind to wade through the haze of desire that had consumed my senses. Was it seconds, minutes or more? I only knew it had been late afternoon when Nahuel broke the bathroom door, and when I surfaced to find him gone from my body, twilight had shrouded the room.

I sat up, searching the darkened room for my imprint. He was crouched with his back pressed against the door, knees drawn up, head buried in his arms, fists clenched tight—the same heart-breaking posture I'd found him in when he'd fled to La Push and decided his death was the best solution to all our problems. The last remnants of heated passion evaporated from my body at the sight. My heart still hammered heavily, but now it was struggling against the build-up of ice that had settled around it.

Five days ago, I might have been able to walk away from him. I'd almost done it, when I thought he'd gone to the beach to get away from me because he despised me so much. But that was five days ago, more than enough time for the imprinting bond to grow even stronger, even more impossible to ignore. Nothing anyone—not even Nahuel himself—could have done or said would have forced me away from him now.

Carefully, because my legs felt buttery and limp, I climbed off the bed and took a tentative step toward him. The room wasn't large; it took just two more steps to reach his side. I knelt beside him, just as I'd done at La Push. This time, however, I wasn't sure if I should try jolting him with the electrical charge that touching him would surely create.

Instead, I called his name, softly, the way one would speak to a frightened child. "Nahuel?" He didn't respond. I tried again.

"Nahuel, look at me. What just happened here?"

He didn't raise his head, but I knew he heard me; a massive tremor rippled through his clenched body. "Leave me, Leah. Please."

Were we back to him trying to push me away? _Oh no, I don't think so, vamp-boy. We've come too far to go back now._

"Nahuel, look at me right now," I said, determinedly. Instead of touching his shoulder, this time I pried the fingers of one hand open and twined my own around them. Once again, that powerful charge sparked his response, and he lifted his head from his arms. My heart seized painfully at the haunted misery etched on his beautiful face. He pulled his hand from mine.

"Leave me," he said again, a little more forcefully this time.

"I can't leave," I replied. When he continued to stare at me silently, I plunged on. "You're sitting in front of the door."

Confusion edged out the misery for a moment, then, as understanding crept behind it, Nahuel shifted slightly, sliding a few feet away from the door. "You can go now," he said, looking away from me, his tone rife with resignation.

I didn't hesitate. "I still can't go."

"Why not?" Now he was starting to get annoyed, and it slipped into his voice.

_Good. I can work with annoyed. That's a hell of a lot better than defeated._

"You're still in my way, Nahuel," I replied, crawling on my hands and knees to close the distance he'd put between us. "You're always in my way and you always will be, no matter where or how far you go. And if you try to get out of my way, I'm just going to find you and put you back there. You're not going to get away from me, so you might as well stop trying to run and start talking instead." I sat down beside him, and took his hand again. This time he allowed me to keep it.

He stared at our meshed fingers. "I have brought nothing but danger and chaos to your life. Why do you endure me?" he whispered.

How to answer that? How could I tell him that he'd totally devastated the apathetic status quo I'd been living with for the past six years? That he'd completely wiped out the complacent security I'd enjoyed for so long? And how could I make him understand that every minute of madness was totally worth it because it was a minute spent with him, a minute in which I felt _whole_—something I'd never dreamed I would feel again?

I couldn't say any of those things, not yet, not even after what we'd nearly done together in this room. So instead, I answered his question with my own.

"What happened, Nahuel? You can tell me. Nothing you can say will make me walk out that door, so you might as well just talk about it."

He still couldn't look at me. His free hand rose to scrub at his face, and his graceful fingers settled over his eyes. He was hiding from me, and I didn't think he would answer my question. But after a moment, I heard his voice, low and rasping.

"It was what you said. It reminded me that no matter how much I wish otherwise, I am a monster, a monster that could easily kill you."

It was my turn to be confused. "I don't understand. What did I say?"

He dropped his hand and finally looked at me. Misery and unshed tears swam in his bottomless eyes. "You called me 'baby,' and you said I was killing you."

Anger whipped through my brain. _Oh you have GOT to be kidding me. Of all the stupid-ass things to be upset about._

Then, just as quickly, the need to comfort pushed the annoyance aside. "It's just an expression. You were frustrating the hell out of me because I wanted you to go faster, but you weren't hurting me at all."

"Leah, the very act of intercourse with me could hurt you," he said, his tone overly patient, the kind of patience you'd use when trying to explain to a small child or the village idiot why playing with matches and gasoline wouldn't be a good idea. "There is a reason why I have never been with a human woman before. I never wanted to be like my father. I never wanted to risk impregnating a human woman."

_Baby … killing me …. _

If I could have bent my leg far enough to kick my own ass, I would have booted myself to La Push and back. My mind was spinning in circles, trying to zero in on what I could possibly say or do to fix this for him, but he was still talking.

"Avoiding entanglements with human women was never a problem before," he said, lowering his eyes again. "I never encountered one I could not stay away from, until I met you. I do not understand why it is so, but I cannot stay away from you."

Could a human heart soar and shatter at the same time? Mine felt like it was doing exactly that. I totally understood his confusion over a compulsion he couldn't control or explain. It broke my heart that it caused him so much anguish, but it also thrilled me to know he _was_ feeling the pull of the imprinting. Until that moment, I hadn't been sure.

He dropped his head onto his bent knees. "I nearly took you without any precaution," he choked. "I could have … created a monster … murdered you with my passion." Tremors shook his body and he clawed at his own hair again, as he had that night on the beach. "I am no better than my sire."

I didn't think. Just as I'd done that morning behind my father's woodshed, I pushed his arms out of my way and climbed into his lap. Like this morning, there was nothing sexual about this embrace, despite our nudity.

"You are nothing like him, do you hear me? And you don't need to stay away from me, Nahuel," I said, cradling his face in my hands and gently forcing him to meet my eyes. "I understand if you're not ready for this level of intimacy right now. But when you are ready, you need to know that you won't hurt me … that way."

It would be agony to finally speak the truth. Never saying it aloud in so many words had helped me avoid facing the truth for years, had allowed me to lie to myself that maybe what I suspected, _wasn't_ really the truth at all. But Nahuel needed those words right now. There was nothing I wouldn't give him, no matter what it might cost me.

"I can't get pregnant," I said. The words hung in the air between us, then settled on my skin, the pain of their finality seeping through layers of flesh to brand their brutal truth on my bones. _Fuck me. The truth really does hurt, doesn't it? _"My body doesn't do the things a woman's body has to do for pregnancy to be possible. It's the cost of being a shape-shifter, I guess."

Surprise and relief rippled across his face. I thought I'd done a good job of keeping my tone and expression placid and neutral when I said those agonizing words, but he must have seen something of what I was trying to hide. The relief quickly fell away from his eyes, replaced by something that looked suspiciously like sympathy, and, perversely, a hint of disappointment. He drew me against his chest, wrapping his strong arms around me.

"I am so sorry, ñi piuque," he breathed against my cheek, one hand rubbing tender, comforting circles on my back, while the other stroked my still-damp hair. I realized it wasn't pity he was offering me, but the empathy of one who understood what it meant to be frozen and futureless.

We sat like that for a while, neither of us eager to return to the reality waiting outside my bedroom door. It was fully night now, but the house remained silent. My mother was probably still at the hospital with Charlie, but I wondered where Seth could be this late. I found I couldn't focus on much of anything beyond this peaceful bubble where Nahuel and I were the only two people in the world. I was utterly exhausted by the day's emotional rollercoaster, so tired that I didn't even realize I'd dozed off on his lap until I felt myself being lifted and carried toward the bed.

_Damn, he's strong._ He lowered me to the bed, tugging the sheet out from under me and gently lofting it over my body. I couldn't force my eyes open, but I clutched at his arm. "Stay with me."

"Gladly," he replied, slipping beneath the sheet. He eased me onto my side and spooned behind me. The comfort of his delicious heat eased away the last of the day's soreness and tension from my muscles. Nothing ever felt warm to me except him. He was more soothing than a hot water bottle, more relaxing than a deep tissue massage.

His arm draped over my waist, pulling me close. He nuzzled through my hair, pressing a light kiss beneath my ear. Sleep was pulling me under fast now, but I thought I heard him whisper something in that strange, erotic language of his.

"Inchepoyeneimi …."

I would have to remember to ask him what that meant, I thought. Then I slipped over the edge into oblivion.

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><p><strong><em>End Note:<em>**_ *Fans self* Whew! I don't know about you folks, but I need a glass of water or a shot of tequila or SOMETHING! Hope this chapter was as good for you all as it was for me. _

_I'm making a shameless plea here - if you're reading this, please, please, please review, even if it's just to tell me how darned annoying these notes are. You'll help me make my personal goal of getting 100-plus reviews. We're almost there.  
><em>

_Next chapter will be a little slower in coming (pun intended) since I'm going on vacation with the family this weekend. So look for an update later next week. As always, thanks to everyone who's reading, reviewing and following on Twitter. _


	12. Magic Dance

**_A/N:_**_ Sorry for the delay in getting this one posted. My fault entirely. I allowed real life to intrude on this lovely fantasy I'm sharing with all of you! Despite their own busy real lives, my betas MunkeeRajah and Evelyn did their usual wonderful, speedy work._

_Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight._

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><p>Chapter 12 – Magic Dance<p>

**Jacob POV**

When she was human and bent out of shape, Bella had always been cute as hell. She would get all hissy and puff up like a kitten who thought she could take on a Rottweiler. Honestly, when she was human and tried to rip me a new one, my biggest problem was trying to decide whether to laugh at her or kiss her on the nose.

Pissed-off _vampire_ Bella, well, that was another story. Vampire Bella _could_ kick my ass—man or wolf— six ways from Sunday, because she knew I wouldn't fight back. Not only could I not hit a girl, I could never hit a girl who was also my best friend _and_ my girl's mother.

For two days, I'd been on Bella's bad side, and it didn't matter one bit that the whole situation wasn't my fault. Leah was the reason Bells was madder than a wet cat, but my beta was way too smart to come within a country mile of any Cullen right now. So my vampire BFF was taking out her frustrations on the only wolf dumb enough to be around when she was like this—namely, me.

The sunny day wasn't helping Bella's mood, either. Sunshine meant sparkly Bella, and sparkly Bella couldn't go to Forks Community Hospital to see Charlie. I got that she was worried about him, but seriously. His injuries were minor and it wasn't like he was alone at the hospital. Sue hadn't left his side since the attack.

Personally, I thought Bella ought to be glad for an excuse to get out of seeing Charlie today. It bought her a little more time to think about what she would tell him when he finally got home. Charlie was chomping at the bit for answers, but he knew he couldn't say anything anywhere there was a risk of being overheard. I was pretty sure once he started asking his questions, and hearing the answers, he was going to be every bit as mad at Bella as he was at me.

Bella and her dad weren't the only ones cheesed at me right now, either. When I'd visited Charlie in the hospital, Sue had treated me like I'd dropped a rabid raccoon in the middle of a preschool class. Sam was wetting himself that the Cullens were going to view Leah's mouthing off as a breach of the treaty. And the rest of the vamp contingent kept reminding me that the only reason they _weren't_ pounding my ass for Leah breaking the treaty was because they expected me to give them little wolf-vampire-hybrid babies someday. But only after I'd married Renesemee in the eyes of God and man, of course.

About the only ones who weren't giving me a rash of shit were the two people who could usually be counted on to do just that: Blondie, amazingly enough, and Leah herself. When Rose heard what Leah had done, she just smirked, muttered "It's about damn time somebody yanked Charlie's head out of his ass," and marched off to entertain herself rebuilding the Vanquish engine for the bazillionth time.

Carlisle had said Charlie could go home tomorrow, so Edward, Bella and Sam decided we all needed to sit down together and get our stories straight. I'd asked Jasper and Carlisle to join us. Mostly because I wanted to talk about the new developments in the Joham situation, but also because I figured I could count on the two of them to help calm everyone down if things got out of hand.

Since Sam still refused to set foot in the Cullens' house, and the tribal elders had never agreed to relax the treaty enough to allow the vamps onto the rez, we were all back at the practice field, sitting around in the big tent Esme had provided for the comfort of my pack brothers.

Sam was being a real dick, and I was pretty sure Bella was seriously considering punching his lights out. He was standing just inside the tent door, arms crossed, wearing a "kiss my ass" expression that beat any I'd ever seen on Leah. Bella was sitting on the other side of the tent, at a picnic table with Edward, as far from Sam and me as she could get and still be inside. The vibe beneath the canvas was _not_ good, but at least there were snacks, thanks to Esme.

"The cat is out of the bag for Jake, Seth and Leah," Sam said. His whole attitude screamed belligerence. "And what you decide to tell Charlie about vampires is up to you. But I don't think it's necessary for him to know about my pack."

"What difference does it make if he knows there are three wolves or thirteen or thirty?" I asked, trying very hard to keep my cool. The last thing we needed was for both Bella and me to lose it. "Charlie still feels grateful to you for finding Bella when she was lost in the woods. He'd never do anything to compromise you or your pack."

_Sorry, man,_ I threw Edward's way, knowing Bella had dropped her shield on me for the sake of this conversation. And that bringing up the time Edward had left Bella would probably still sting him, even after all these years. Edward ignored my silent apology. _Damn. He gave Leah a pass right there at the crash scene. Why's he still pissed at me?_

"If you don't know, I'm certainly not going to tell you," he murmured petulantly. _Since when are you such a teenaged girl?_ I shot back.

Sam gave Edward a curious look. He wasn't used to the silent asides that everyone else had with Edward. After a moment, he turned his attention to Carlisle. He tended to do that—act like Carlisle was the last word—when he wasn't getting what he wanted from me, and it chapped my ass every time he did it.

"I'm afraid I can't budge on this, Dr. Cullen," Sam said. "Because of his relationship with Renesmee, Jacob's pack is permanently bonded to your family, but mine is not. When you leave Forks, we will all be safer if no outsiders know our secrets."

I cringed inwardly at the word "outsider," and glanced to Bella to see her reaction. Amazingly, Bella seemed to be considering Sam's words.

Maybe he sensed Bella was wavering, or he interpreted Carlisle's silence as agreement, because Sam moved in for the kill. "In exchange for you not telling Charlie about my pack, I can make you this promise: If the Volturi ever come looking for Charlie because of what he knows, we will hide him, and protect him to the last wolf."

Bella was nodding her agreement before Sam even finished. "Deal," she said. "If Charlie knowing about your pack will cause him trouble on the rez, and not knowing about them will make him a little bit safer, then I say this is one secret we should still keep from him."

I groaned. "Bells, c'mon. Haven't we had enough secrets to last us all a lifetime?"

She turned her angry glare on me. "Jake, you're the one who started this entire keeping-secrets-from-Charlie thing in the first place. I appreciate why you did it, and it worked okay for six years, but now everything has changed. We're going to be leaving Forks soon, and I don't want Charlie in any more danger because of what he knows."

I opened my mouth to protest further, but she cut me off, talking over me. "Jake, I'm done with this discussion. Once Charlie's home from the hospital tomorrow, Edward, Renesmee and I are going to talk to him. We would like you to be there, too. We'll play it by ear what we tell him about vampires, but we won't say anything about Sam's pack."

Another difference between human Bella and vampire Bella—decisiveness. The stubbornness, however, that was all human Bella. She'd carried it over from her human life, and if anything, she was even more pigheaded as a vampire than she'd been as a mortal.

As far as I could tell, there really wasn't any good reason for Charlie to not know about Sam's pack, but I knew there was no point in arguing with him further. Sam had his knickers in a twist over something and he'd tell me what that was when he was ready to, and not a minute before.

Jasper, who'd listened quietly while the Sam versus Bella drama played out, spoke up, reminding me we had other important things to talk about.

"Well if that matter is settled, I think we need to discuss the newborn's attack and this murder Charlie told Jacob about," he drawled.

"Agreed," I said, relieved to move on. I quickly recapped the developments of the past few days.

"Charlie said the reason he was on the rez was that there'd been a murder in Port Angeles," I said, moving to take a seat next to Bella on the wooden picnic bench. She shifted slightly to look at me while listening, but made no move to get up. Guess she was ready to let her grudge go, at least a little bit.

"The murder sounds like it could have been the work of a vampire. Charlie said there was a witness who saw a suspect leaving the scene."

"That's not possible," Jasper interrupted. "No vampire would leave a human witness alive, especially not if the killer was a newborn."

"Agreed," I said again. "It doesn't make sense, but Charlie says there was a witness and their description of the suspect sounded like Nahuel."

"Is there any chance that it actually could have been him?" Sam asked. "How much do you really know about him? Is it possible he slipped away and committed this crime?"

I ground my teeth, instantly pissed on behalf of my beta and her imprint, neither of whom was here to defend themselves. "No," I said, adamantly. "He hasn't had more than two minutes alone to himself since he got here, and the night of the murder, he was home with Seth, Sue and Leah. They can all vouch for him."

I hesitated for just a moment, considering whether I should say more. _Hell with it. Put it out there._

"I trust Nahuel," I told Sam. "He's a decent guy."

Sam snorted and shook his head in disbelief. "A decent guy who roughed up Charlie and was on the verge of ripping out his throat when a wolf stopped him?" he challenged.

Before I could answer, Carlisle came to Nahuel's defense. "Given the recent trauma Nahuel has experienced, his response to the perceived threat of a gun was not unreasonable," Carlisle pointed out. "From Jacob's description of the incident, Nahuel didn't fight Leah when she halted his attack on Charlie. I don't believe Nahuel is really a threat to anyone, but even if he were, Leah, Jacob and Seth have demonstrated their ability to keep him controlled."

"I hope you're right, doc," Sam said. "Jacob and I both had to work hard to convince the elders to allow Nahuel to remain on the rez. I'd hate to see our trust misplaced."

I could tell it was time to let this topic go. I wasn't going to convince Sam of anything, but I hoped he would get the opportunity to meet Nahuel soon. Considering Nahuel's opinion of how Sam had treated Leah, it would be a very interesting meeting.

"There's more," I continued, turning my attention back to Jasper. "The police in Forks received an anonymous tip that someone fitting the suspect's description was seen on the rez. That's why Charlie was there, and when he walked into Sue's house and saw Nahuel … well, he kind of over-reacted a bit, which is really not like Charlie at all."

Jasper paced slowly across the tent, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "So let's recap our questions," he said. "First, who committed this murder? Was it a vampire? If it was a vampire, how could there be a witness? Why did that witness give a description that fit Nahuel, and who tipped the cops that Nahuel was on the rez? Have I got it all?"

"No," Edward spoke up. "You're forgetting whether or not that murder ties into the Joham situation at all, and if so, how. Also, was the newborn that attacked Charlie sent by Joham? It seems logical to infer that it was, but what was the purpose behind attacking Charlie?"

Jasper considered for a moment. "We have to assume Nahuel's aunt would have told Joham about Renesmee's human grandfather," he said, thoughtfully. "If I were Joham, I'd try grabbing said human to flush out my quarry."

Bella drew an outraged breath beside me. I could feel her whole body shaking with fury. Edward slipped an arm around her, and she instantly calmed a bit.

Jasper continued. "It doesn't say much for Joham's skill as a tactician that he would send a newborn vampire to do such a delicate task. Still, Charlie's very lucky that Leah was able to intercept the newborn before it could do anything worse than bang up his patrol car." He gave Bella a pointed look.

She sighed. "Point taken." She turned to me. "I'm sorry I've been such a shrew to you for the past couple of days, Jake," she said. "I know none of this is really your fault. My only excuse is that I've been so worried about Charlie for so long, and everything is coming to a head right now."

I gave her a quick one-armed hug. "S'okay, Bells. We all just want what's best for Charlie right now, and to protect Ness from this whack job."

I turned back to Jasper. "Has Alice been able to see anything more?"

He shook his head. "She's trying, but there are just too many blank spots. The only thing she can tell at this point is that there are no blank spots in her vision for the next few weeks."

Three weeks of reprieve. I was certain things were going to turn really bad eventually, but I took some comfort in thinking that wouldn't happen any time soon.

SSW/SSW/SSW

I wasn't wrong, but then again, I wasn't completely right either. When Charlie got home from the hospital the next day, things did get worse, just not spectacularly worse, and not in the way I thought they would.

Lying in a hospital bed, banged up from his encounter with a newborn vampire, Charlie had apparently had time to distill his shock and disbelief into righteous anger. The only good thing was he seemed to be just as pissed at Edward as he was with me. I was in the dog house for starting the big, shitty snowball of deception rolling six years ago, and Edward was at fault for ever existing, let alone having the gall to insert himself into Bella's life.

And when the word "vampire" finally made it into the conversation, well, let's just say I was really grateful that Edward had a couple of medical degrees. I was pretty sure Charlie was going to have a heart attack. Or a stroke. Possibly both.

Once he started breathing again, the shouting really began. It took Ness to finally put everything in perspective for him.

"Grandpa, this is reality. It's been my reality all my life, and now it's yours too. If you love Mom and me, and want us to be part of your life, then you're going to have to accept this reality and learn to deal with it. Mom and Dad are vampires, I'm half-vampire, half human, Jake's a werewolf and we all love you very much."

That drained the purple out of Charlie's complexion and the anger out of his attitude. He just dropped into his chair, totally deflated, and reached for Sue's hand. It didn't take him that long to collect himself, and then he began grilling us on Nahuel, the murder and what else was going on in Forks that its chief of police didn't know about.

We told him as much as we could, begged him to stay out of it, and finally got him to agree to keep his eyes open, his mouth shut, and call us immediately if he saw anything out of the ordinary. And he gave us one more piece of the puzzle: the name of the "witness" who'd claimed to see the murder suspect.

It was "Anjali Johanson," a woman who claimed to be a tourist and who had disappeared from Port Angeles immediately after giving police her statement. How freaking suspicious was _that_?

"You know, Charlie's actually dealing pretty damn well," I told Ness after we left her grandfather's house. We were on our way to my dad's place so I could pick up some clean clothes. Since I'd been staying with the Cullens since Nahuel reappeared, I was running low on clean clothes. I loved Esme, but I couldn't let her do my laundry. Dirty clothes just end up smelling worse when you let a vampire wash them for you.

"Makes me think maybe he would have been okay if we'd told him all this long ago," I reflected, parking the truck close to the wheelchair ramp that led to the front door. Since it was pouring like hell (of course), I was trying to keep our run to the door as short as possible. I popped the door handle, but Ness laid her tiny hand on my arm before I could get out.

"Jake, I know you're feeling guilty about all this, but don't," she said, firmly, pinning me with those big, brown eyes I loved. "This all started a long time ago, and you did what you had to do at the time to ensure we could all stay together. No one blames you. I'd do anything to be able to stay with you, too."

It was amazing how she always knew exactly what to say to make me feel better. I leaned over and gave her a quick kiss of thanks on the lips before jumping out of the truck and sprinting through the downpour. Even though I'd practically parked on the front porch, we were both soaked by the time I got the door open.

The house felt really tiny and sad without dad there. But his health had been failing for a while and Rachel and I had been after him to move in with her and Paul. He finally gave in earlier this year when he fell trying to get out of bed and into his wheelchair. He'd thought he would hate to give up his independence, but it turned out he loved spending time with Rachel's kids. Most of the time, I was alone in the house. We hadn't yet decided what we'd do with the place once I left Forks with the Cullens.

I shucked my wet, muddy shoes by the front door and headed for the bathroom at the back of the house. "Stay there, I'll bring you some towels," I called to Ness over my shoulder. I grabbed a couple of towels from the bath and returned to the living room.

"Do you want to borrow a dry shirt?" I asked, stepping into the room. I took one look at Renesmee and the blood drained from my head, pouring south to pool around my _other_ head, the one that usually took control in moments like this.

Ness stood by my front door, stripped down to her bra and panties, both of which were totally soaked and see-through. The sight made me instantly horny. And mad as hell. She'd been doing her best lately to make sure I was very familiar with the mixture of those two feelings, and I didn't like it one bit.

"_What_ are you doing?" I growled.

"Getting out of my wet clothes," she replied, her eyes wide with fake innocence. "Why? What does it look like I'm doing?" When I didn't immediately reply, she took a step in my direction. That snapped me out of my lust-induced stupor. I knew if she came any closer, I was going to be on her like a duck on a June bug.

"Stay right there," I ordered, tossing a towel to her. She easily snatched it out of the air. Instead of wrapping it around herself, she used the towel to begin briskly rubbing her damp hair. Her tits bounced with every stroke of the towel.

I groaned low in my chest. I knew I should look away. Throw our wet clothes in the dryer. Go pack a bag with some clean clothes. Go into the kitchen and make us a few sandwiches. I should do anything other than stand there and watch her move the towel from her hair down over her body.

_Look away from my drop-dead gorgeous, mostly naked fiancée. Yeah, right. That's not gonna happen._

She was working on her legs now, bending gracefully at the waist and moving the towel in long strokes down her calves. My jeans felt like I'd strapped a straightjacket around my dick and my mouth was as dry as a wad of cotton. I licked my lips and, without really thinking about it, reached down to adjust myself.

It took a few seconds for me to hear her talking past the blood roaring in my ears.

"You know Jake, since we have some time alone here, there's something I wanted to discuss with you," Ness said. She'd finished drying off and draped the damp towel over the radiator near the front door. Drying off hadn't done a damn thing to make her underwear less revealing.

_Talk? She wants to talk? _

"What was that?" I asked, as she slowly approached me.

"Well, you know how when Nahuel first showed up we agreed that we might need to postpone the wedding until this situation was resolved?" She was standing right in front of me and I could swear the heat coming off her body was steaming the dampness right out of my clothes. Or maybe that was me, since she had me so incredibly hot right now.

I was fixated on the drop or two of water that was pooling in the dip of her collarbone, water she'd somehow managed to miss despite all that energetic rubbing. My brain wanted me to suggest I could take care of that for her—with my tongue. Fortunately, what came out of my mouth was:

"Uuuhhh … yeah?"

She placed both hands on my chest and stepped closer, pressing herself against me. I thought I could hear the moisture sizzling off our skin. When she leaned into me, smashing my erection between us, I expected my brain to liquefy and trickle out my ears.

"I don't want to wait to get married, Jake," she said, sliding her palms up my chest. When she reached my shoulders, she pulled herself up to press a kiss on the corner of my mouth. I shivered and my hands found their way to her waist without any direction from me.

"We may not have a choice, sweetheart." I was really trying to hold on to the last scraps of my sanity. "What if Joham picks our wedding day to show up in Forks? Do you really want to be left standing at the altar if I have to go off and fight?"

"I thought of that, and I have a solution," she said, raising one leg impossibly high and hitching it around my waist. When she used that leverage to start climbing my body, I instinctively slipped my hands under her rear to support her. Again, acting entirely independently of my direction, my hands began to massage her ass cheeks.

_How is she not losing her mind right now? I sure as hell am._

"What's that?" I asked, lowering my head so I could reach her neck with my mouth. Now my lips and tongue were acting on their own too, licking and sucking down her long, graceful neck. _Shit! Is any part of me still under my control?_

"Let's elope."

In my wild pre-Renesmee youth—and granted, there wasn't much of it in terms of length of time—I'd once gotten totally trashed at a party Paul threw. My pack brothers had thought it would be funny as hell to dump my naked, drunk ass into the ice tub along with the bottles of cheap beer and wine cooler. That had been the most dick-shriveling moment of my life. Until now.

At Nessie's words, my erection deflated faster than a Macy's Thanksgiving Day float after an unfortunate encounter with a light pole. I pushed her legs from around my waist and peeled her arms off my neck. I set her firmly on the floor and stepped away from her. Too pissed to speak, I turned away and snagged a clean towel from the floor where I'd dropped it when I first walked in on Renesmee in her Victoria's Secrets.

Behind me, Ness blew out a frustrated sigh. "Fuck," she moped. "C'mon, Jake. Why the hell not?"

"You know why not," I growled, still refusing to look at her. I peeled off my wet T-shirt and jeans (two could play at this game) and, wearing nothing but my boxer briefs, collected Renesmee's wet clothes from the floor. I stalked into the kitchen, where our washer and dryer were hidden behind a partition at the far end of the room, and tossed the clothes into the dryer. I braced my hands on the machine and leaned forward, dragging in deep breaths to calm myself. I knew I'd just been played and it wasn't a good feeling at all.

Nessie's quiet tread signaled she'd come into the kitchen behind me. I didn't turn around, didn't acknowledge her until she slipped her arms around my waist from behind. Her soft, warm cheek pressed against my back, and I felt my anger ease slightly.

"I'm sorry to upset you," she said softly, brushing her lips against my skin. "I just feel like we're allowing everything else, including my father and Nahuel's problems, to make this decision for us."

I turned in her arms to face her and looped my arms behind her back. I didn't like arguing with her. Being at odds with Renesmee made me feel off-centered, adrift. "I wish I could make you understand why this is important," I sighed.

She gazed at me solemnly. "I'm listening. Please try to explain. I really want to understand."

I rested my forehead against hers and closed my eyes, searching for the words. "Most people get one short lifetime to either get things right or completely fuck things up," I said. "Sink or swim, it's over and done with in seventy or eighty years."

I lifted my head and gazed into her eyes, willing her to understand. "It's different for us. We have forever. On the one hand, it's an incredible gift to know you have eternity with the ones you love. On the other, it's a helluva responsibility knowing that if you disappoint the people who love you, they could stay hurt forever. Us getting married is really important to your whole family, not just to Edward, and I really think we need to keep that in mind."

She was quiet as she processed my words. One of the things I loved most about her was that she listened with an open mind the few times when we actually disagreed. I couldn't claim the same fairness. Finally, she sighed and nodded.

"Alright, I can't say I agree, but I think I understand your perspective," she said. "You do realize, though, that if Grandpa Charlie had ever intruded into Mom and Dad's sex life as much as my father has into ours, Mom would have told him where to go?"

I chuckled, relieved that she seemed willing to let the idea of eloping fade into the background. "Oh, yeah, I know." She giggled with me, then grew serious again.

"Can we agree to a compromise? I won't bring up the idea of eloping again if you agree to move forward with the original wedding date, come hell or high water."

I grinned. "I can agree to that. If Joham does decide to show up on our wedding day, I'll just make sure the asshat is ready to play flower girl before I pound him into oblivion."

She laughed again and pressed her nearly naked body against mine. That quick, my Macy's float was ready for the parade all over again.

"Now I'd like to propose another compromise," she said, breathily, reaching up to slip her fingers into my hair and pull my mouth toward hers.

"Yeah? What's that?"

"Well, since we're still waiting for you to make an honest woman of me, I propose we explore … alternative … ways of enjoying ourselves."

I grinned against her lips.

"Deal."


	13. A Perfect Day

**_A/N: _**_Once again, thanks to my betas MunkeeRajah and Evelyn. If I ever get stranded on a desert island, I want my laptop and both of them! A special thanks to sentinel10, my 100th reviewer. In honor of her helping me reach the milestone of 100 reviews, I asked her to give me a story element to work in. If you like Nahuel's first meeting with Sam, you have her to thank for the idea!  
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_Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight. I'm just cooking in her kitchen for a while._

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><p>Chapter 13 – A Perfect Day<p>

**Leah POV**

A dress. A fucking dress. With a sweetheart neckline, swirly knee-length skirt, adorable little cap sleeves, and pink and green cabbage roses woven into the pattern. I was wearing a freakin' dress with a pair of strappy, come-fuck-me-sandals.

And I was on my way to a barbecue. With vampires.

_How could I let this happen?_

I bounced along in the cab of Jake's truck, sandwiched between Nahuel on my right and Jake, driving, on my left. My ass went airborne for two seconds before slamming back down on the rump-sprung seat. Off-roading to the barbecue with my Alpha and my imprint was not the best idea I'd ever heard of. Then again, going to Esme Cullen's annual end-of-summer shindig hadn't been my idea at all. I'd ducked the event from the first year she'd held the mixer for the wolf packs, their family members, and all available vegetarian vamps.

The reason I'd agreed to go this year was sitting beside me, his right elbow propped on the frame of the open truck window, chin in hand, head halfway out the window. A happy, puppyish grin occupied his beautiful face. His left hand held my right, lightly, on top of his left thigh. Electricity crawled along my skin whenever the truck's movement over the rutted trail jostled me into him.

Jake kept pretending he wasn't sneaking peeks at us out of the corner of his eye. I mentally dared him to say anything, because the whole hand-holding thing was freaking me the hell out, too. Nahuel had taken my hand in his as soon as we left the driveway of my mom's house. He'd been doing that kind of thing a lot over the past couple of weeks.

Ever since our frustratingly failed attempt at love-making the day he'd attacked Charlie, Nahuel had been acting like … well, like a _boyfriend_.

Part of me wanted to tell him to knock it off because I was a sure thing. It's not like he had to woo me to get into my panties. I'd have jumped him immediately if he'd given me even one signal that he was ready for it. But another part of me, the very large part that was completely under the control of the imprinting bond, told me to keep my mouth shut. Let him hold my hand. Wrap an arm around my shoulders while we watched a movie on the couch. Steal sweet, modest, hands-free kisses with his arms elbow-deep in a sink full of dirty dishes.

Nahuel had shifted gears again, and this time it seemed like he was focused on exploring a new human experience—romance. He'd told me his previous sexual encounters had only been with vampires. Vampires mated. Humans dated. I suspected Nahuel was using this change in our relationship as one more tool to bind himself more firmly to the human half of his nature. It was one more way to be as unlike his father as possible; after all, Joham had screwed and impregnated plenty of human women, but he hadn't stuck around with a single one of them. If feeling more human would make Nahuel want to stay alive—and stay with me—I was more than happy to let him play the gentleman boyfriend.

Part of me relished his attentiveness. Knowing he lusted after my body was empowering, but feeling like he wanted me for companionship, and not just for sex, was both intoxicating and frightening. Intoxicating to feel special in such a normal way. Frightening because it made me hope that we could possibly have a future together. But was it a false hope?

I had to accept the very real possibility that he could disappear from my life at any moment. When that happened, when he ripped that invisible cable out by the anchors … well, this new approach of his pretty much guaranteed my soul would bleed out entirely through the hole he'd leave behind.

Jake cleared his throat and down-shifted the truck, bringing me back to the moment. Oh yeah, that moment. The one where I was about to prance into a field full of hulking, testosterone-addled werewolves and bona fide vampires. Wearing a dress.

All because Nahuel had wanted to go. With me. And my mother made me wear a dress.

The truck slowed as we approached the clearing. I could see through the trees that Esme and Alice had added a couple more tents to the one that usually occupied the field. The tents and picnic area were set up at the near end of the field, while the back half had been reserved for games. I vaguely recalled Jake and Seth blathering something about touch football and kicking some vampire ass.

Jake parked the truck beside an old beat-up minivan, reminding me of yet another reason why I usually avoided this get-together. Sam and Emily were here, with their brood. While the power of the imprinting had pushed out the lingering remnants of bitterness I had usually felt about Sam, I still wasn't eager to see him or his family.

Nahuel hopped out of the truck and turned to help me down. I certainly didn't need the hand he held out to steady me, but I took it anyway. My skirt rode up my thighs as I slid to the ground, and I caught an appreciative glint in his eyes. _Really? _It wasn't like he didn't see my legs in shorts practically every day, or that he hadn't seen all there was to see a few weeks ago. Maybe Mom had been right to insist on the dress.

Jake came around the truck and slammed the passenger door shut behind me. Nahuel was still holding my hand and had turned to look expectantly toward the tent, where the party was well under way. The aroma of barbecue, burgers and corn on the cob wafted through the air. Although I'd never admit it, I was actually looking forward to the food; Seth and Jake both raved about the cooking skills of vampires.

I caught Jake eyeing our linked hands. I shrugged one shoulder in his direction. _Guess we're going public._ He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but before he could speak, Seth bounded up to us.

"Hey guys! It's so cool you came. Esme's outdone herself with this year's spread, and Alice and Em have some awesome games planned."

Jake grinned, grabbed Seth in a friendly headlock and rubbed his knuckles on my brother's crown. "You mean there's actually still some food left after you got to the tables?" He released Seth's head and gave his shoulder an affectionate shake.

"Hardy-har-har," Seth snorted. "Paul's not here yet. That's the only reason there's any grub left for anyone else. You guys better get into the food tent and get some."

That was all Nahuel needed to hear. Since the first night in our house when my mother had served him the first steak he'd ever had in a century and a half, Nahuel had been obsessed with trying new human food. Some of it he just hated, like most vegetables, and, surprisingly, anything with whipped cream. He loved every kind of meat he'd tried, however, and treated ice cream like a religious experience. He gently tugged on my hand, leading me toward the collection of tents.

Between Jake's pack, Sam's, all their family members, the handful of tribe members and elders who had the testicular fortitude to mingle with vampires, and the Cullens themselves, there were probably close to seventy-five people milling around. Jake would have said I was being paranoid, but I was pretty sure every single one of them was staring at my hand in Nahuel's. I didn't care why they were staring—whether they were curious or hostile—I didn't like being the center of so much attention.

When we fell in line at the buffet, he finally let go of my hand to pick up a tray with plates on it. As we moved down the line, he looked like he was loading a little bit of every dish onto our two plates. Occasionally he would speak to one of the pack members he knew, and once Jasper passed by carrying an enormous beer keg under each arm. He tossed a smile and friendly nod in our direction, and I marveled at how easily my imprint seemed to fit in.

After the plates were overflowing with food, we moved toward the beverage table. A thought occurred to me. "Have you ever had beer?" I asked Nahuel curiously. He grinned widely and my heart trip-hammered into double time. "No, but I would very much like to try some today."

"How does alcohol affect you?" I asked, snagging a large plastic cup in each hand. Froth splashed onto my right hand, and I absently lifted the cup toward my face to lick the beer away. When Nahuel didn't immediately answer my question, I looked up to find him watching my movement. His teak eyes made it clear he was imagining my tongue licking something other than my own hand. He'd apparently found my innocent action very stimulating, and he was making no effort at all to conceal that fact from me.

That fast, I was wet and cursing the damn dress. Hoping he couldn't smell my arousal, I wished for a layer of denim between my damp crotch and the rest of the world. "I need to sit down," I muttered, and turned to lead him toward the picnic area. I found a shaded table near the tree line and set our beers down on opposite sides of the table before dropping onto one of the benches with my back to the tents. Instead of taking a seat across from me, Nahuel placed both plates on the same side and sat down next to me. He casually reached across the table and retrieved his beer.

Holding the cup to his nose, he took a long, thoughtful sniff, wrinkled his nose slightly, and then took a tentative mouthful. He swallowed, grimaced and immediately sat the cup down. I'd been mid-sip when he pulled that face, and I snorted with laughter, beer dribbling over my lips and chin. "Not a fan, eh?" I teased.

His smile was apologetic. "No. The taste is not to my liking." Those damned hypnotic eyes fell to my lips. "Perhaps it might taste better if savored in a different way." He leaned toward me and I realized what he intended a split second before he kissed me. His lips caressed mine, leisurely, languidly, before lowering slightly to lap the beer from my chin.

"Leah?"

My name, squeaked in a voice pitched high with astonishment, was like a lapful of ice water. Of all the people I would least want to have catch me in a lip lock with a half-vampire, my cousin, the woman who'd replaced me in Sam's life, was very near the top of the list.

"Hi, Emily." I caught Nahuel's quiet intake of breath when I said Emily's name, but he remained silent.

She stood frozen in place, three plates of food balanced precariously on her arms. On either side of her stood a little Uley spawn, their eyes round and mystified. Their small heads swiveled back and forth, their eyes moving from their mother to me and back again. Obviously, Emily had seen the open end of our table and thought to sit down. But that was before she realized who she'd be sitting next to.

I knew the polite thing to do would be to offer them a seat, but I really had no interest in sharing a table—or my imprint—with them. Maybe she'd be satisfied with some pleasantries, take my lack of an invitation as the not-so-subtle hint it was, and move on to another table, preferably on the other side of the field.

"You look good," I offered. Emily had been openly staring at Nahuel, and I felt a stab of irritation. When I spoke, she tore her eyes away and gave me a watery smile.

"Thanks. You, too," she said. Then she looked pointedly at Nahuel again, waiting for an introduction.

I sighed. "Emily, this is Nahuel." I was pretty sure she was waiting for me to expand on who he was, even though Sam had certainly told her all about the half-vampire that was rooming with the Clearwaters. After witnessing our kiss, maybe she thought I'd add some kind of social credentials to his name. But I was so _not_ explaining to Emily who Nahuel was to me. Instead, I turned to my imprint. "Nahuel, this is my cousin Emily Uley, Sam Uley's wife. You remember Sam, right? He's the leader of the other LaPush wolf pack."

Nahuel rose gracefully, respectfully, and treated Emily to one of those heart-stopping smiles of his. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Uley," he said. "May I help you with those plates?"

Emily's mouth, which had fallen open when Nahuel turned the power of his panty-melting smile on her, snapped shut. She gulped loudly. "Uh … thanks Nahuel. Nice to meet you, too." Emily was usually pretty composed, so it gave me a pop of smug satisfaction that my imprint's beauty could leave her tongue-tied. She fell silent, staring at him again, until Nahuel prompted her gently.

"The plates? Shall I help you carry them?" he asked politely.

"That won't be necessary." The words were sharp, the deep voice brittle with thinly concealed dislike.

I clenched my eyes shut. _Ohhhhh. Fuck. ME. Can this get any worse? Please let me have hallucinated that voice. I'm going to open my eyes and I will NOT see Sam standing in front of me._

I cracked open one eye. _Yep. Lifetime of lousy luck, holding steady._ "Hi, Sam," I muttered, rising slowly to my feet beside Nahuel.

My imprint stood slightly in front of me, facing Sam, who had blatantly, rudely pushed between Nahuel and Emily. Even though Sam held a large soft drink cup in each hand, he looked powerful, dangerous and hostile. Realization dawned, illuminated by the waves of animosity rippling off both men. They were having a territorial Alpha-male moment. I wondered which one of them would start pissing on my sandals first.

My greeting seemed to momentarily divert Sam. He looked at me and his gaze softened slightly. "Hello, Leah," he said, something warm in his voice, something that had no business being there. Especially since his wife and kids were standing right behind him. "It's good to see you again. It's been too long."

A low rumble vibrated from Nahuel's chest, drawing Sam's eyes back to him. _Is my vamp-boy actually … growling … at my werewolf ex? Shit! Where the hell is Jake when I need him?_

Even after all these years, I knew Sam well enough to recognize the anger quivering below the surface of his dark eyes. He understood Nahuel's growl for the threat it was. He obviously didn't like the challenge, but he was too much in control of himself to let it provoke him. I wasn't as confident about Nahuel's control.

"Sam," Emily said, stepping in front of her husband to command his attention. "Nahuel was just offering to help me with these plates. The kids are hungry and I really need to get off my feet. Let's find a table and let Nahuel and Leah get back to their meal."

Sam's eyes flashed to Emily and, with no subtlety whatsoever, dropped to her abdomen. Puzzle pieces slammed together in my head like clunkers at a demolition derby. Jake had told me how defensive and unreasonable Sam had seemed when they'd all met to discuss what to do about Charlie. Now I knew why. Emily was pregnant again and Sam was in total Alpha mode, protecting his mate and young from every real or potential threat. Evidently, he'd decided Nahuel fit in that category right along with Joham and his army.

I held this nugget of realization to myself quietly for a moment, turning it over in my mind, prodding it from different angles, waiting for my examination to unleash the pain I expected. But it didn't hurt.

Okay, it stung a little, like the twinge of envy you might feel if another girl scored a better price on a dress you'd just paid full retail for. But there was none of the debilitating, suffocating anger and jealousy I'd felt when I'd learned of Emily's first two pregnancies. For the first time since he'd upended my world in the living room of the Cullen mansion, I was intensely, humbly grateful for Nahuel's presence in my life. I was free, and the reason for my freedom was standing beside me, struggling to control himself while I indulged in my introspective moment.

Although I wasn't sure what had triggered Nahuel's aggression, I knew exactly how to stop it. I took his right hand in my left, stepped closer to him so that he would feel the heat of my body against his arm, and laid my right hand on his bicep. Instantly, his eyes found mine. He leaned slightly toward me and drew in one deep breath. Then another. His body relaxed, although not completely, and the clouds of violence that had been brewing behind his eyes slowly rolled back.

Still glaring at us over Emily's head, Sam didn't miss the change in Nahuel's attitude or that it was my touch that brought it on. "Emily, why don't you take Will and Mary to sit with Quil and Claire?" he suggested, his voice gentle and controlled. "I'll be along in a minute."

Emily glanced over her shoulder at me uncertainly. She must have decided things looked under control, though, because she smiled. "It was good to see you, Leah. And to meet you, Nahuel," she said, before leading her kids away. Sam watched his family leave and didn't turn back to us until they were far enough away to not overhear our conversation.

"Leah, can I talk to you in private?" he asked.

Nahuel's body stiffened and his grip on my hand tightened. He didn't like Sam's request. Neither did I.

"I don't think so," I told him, shaking my head and giving Nahuel's arm a gentle squeeze. I almost laughed out loud at Sam's surprise. He'd really thought I'd agree to leave this stunningly beautiful creature beside me and go off with him. Out of the corner of my eye I caught Nahuel's slight smirk.

Sam was persistent. "I really need to talk with you. What I have to say would be better said without an audience."

I sighed. "Sam, what is it? Just say whatever you want to say so that I can get back to enjoying my day."

Sam's control was slipping now, his irritation seeping out around the edges of his carefully composed mask. "All right, since you refuse to have this conversation privately, I'll just say it." He glared at Nahuel for a moment before taking a step toward me. "You're playing with fire, Leah. He's dangerous and out of control. He's using you just like he's using the Cullens. You have no business being with _him_. " He spat the last word like it nauseated him to refer to Nahuel in any way.

I was flabbergasted. Appalled at his arrogance. Embarrassed by his rudeness. And utterly infuriated. But before I could open my mouth to tell him to go to hell, Nahuel shook off my hands and took a step toward Sam, putting them nose to chin. Like Jake and Seth, Sam towered over my imprint, but Nahuel didn't seem the least intimidated by their size difference.

"What is it to you, cur, who she is with as long as it is not you?" he hissed, his voice so low and furious it was barely audible even to me. "Just because you were blind to her worth, do not presume I am as great a fool. Go back to your family before you humiliate yourself any more. Or insult her further."

The delicate threads of Sam's control completely unraveled. "Fuck you, leech," he snarled. "You have no business being around any human, let alone Leah. You're the one who should get the hell out of here."

Suddenly Jake's broad shoulder appeared between Sam and Nahuel, and he was firmly pushing Sam backward away from my enraged imprint. Seth appeared on Nahuel's left side, his brawny paw pressing gently on Nahuel's shoulder.

"Whoa guys! Let's take it down a notch," Jake commanded.

Sam gave ground, allowing Jake to back him up a few steps, but he wasn't done with his verbal assault. "Jacob, why are you allowing this?" he demanded, gesturing furiously between Nahuel and me. "Why are you allowing this blood-sucker to toy with her?"

Trust Jake to be the level voice of calm and reason when everyone around him was ready to throw punches. He stepped back from Sam and propped his hands on his waist, considering his words for a few seconds before he spoke.

"I'm not Leah's father or her boyfriend, and neither are you," he said carefully. "It's not my place to tell her what to do with her personal life any more than it is yours."

His words hung in the air for a few heartbeats before Sam seemed able to fully absorb them. You could see the realization settle that Jake was not going to back him up, and had, in fact, simply reinterpreted and echoed back what Nahuel had said moments before.

"I can see I'm wasting my time here, but mark my words, nothing good is going to come of this," Sam warned, before spinning on his heel and marching away. The tension he had created lingered behind him. Adrenalin was still singing through my veins. Jake and Seth watched his retreat, their massive bodies still poised for action.

It was Nahuel who broke the strained silence. "Asshole," he muttered in disgust.

Seth's mouth dropped open in tandem with Jake's eyebrows leaping into his hairline. All three of us erupted into laughter. That word coming from Nahuel's usually cultured mouth was a riot.

"Where the hell did you learn a word like that?" I demanded, wiping tears of laughter from my eyes.

Nahuel shrugged sheepishly. "From you," he explained. "Why are you laughing? Did I not use the word properly?"

That sent Jake and Seth into fresh hoots. "Yeah, you used it right," Seth gasped, dropping down at our picnic table. Without any invitation, he picked up a fork and dug into the food forgotten on our plates. Just as well. While our laughter had eased my tension, I no longer had any interest in the food.

"So correct me if I've misread what just happened here …" Jake addressed me, crossing his arms over his chest and casually hitching his hip onto a corner of the picnic table, "… but did I just break up two guys fighting over you?"

Heat flooded my cheeks. I wasn't usually a blusher, but the surrealism of what had just happened wasn't lost on me. "Yeah, I think so."

Boldly, Nahuel took my hand in his, and favored Jake with a stern look. "She is worth fighting over. I would have liked to teach him that lesson in a more physical manner, but I realize that could have caused unnecessary complications for everyone. Thank you, my friend, for intervening."

Jake's eyebrows were going to vanish if he got any more surprises today. "You're welcome. But, just in case Sam decides to come back with reinforcements, why don't you two take a nice, quiet walk somewhere that you can't get into any trouble?"

"That is a very good idea," Nahuel said, gently tugging on my arm to lead me into the trees. I knew he was more familiar with the landscape around the practice field than I was, since he'd spent so much more time here than me. I didn't really care where he was taking me, as long as it was away from the scene of the humiliating and infuriating confrontation with Sam.

It didn't take very many steps into the woods before I remembered that I was wearing those rotten sandals. Even though they were flats, they were definitely not hiking attire. Neither was the dress. If I kept going, I was going to risk a turned ankle and scratched legs, or worse.

"Nahuel, wait," I said. "I can't walk in these damned shoes."

Without a word, he scooped me up in his arms like a groom lifts a bride and was sprinting through the trees. I wasn't used to going so fast in human form, and I definitely wasn't in the habit of letting anyone carry me. But I didn't protest, because if I wanted to go anywhere in this get-up, I would need his help to get there. After a few minutes of running, we stopped in a flower-filled clearing beside a brook that was just a little bit bigger than a rivulet. He set me on my feet and I turned in a slow, amazed circle. I'd never seen a lovelier spot.

I completed my turn and faced Nahuel, only to find him watching me. He'd run quite a gamut of human emotion today, from playful to horny to outraged. In the past month, my tiny little acre of the cosmos had shifted its orbit to circle entirely around Nahuel, and I'd become pretty good at reading his emotions. But I was confused by what I thought I saw on his face now—concern, caution, worry.

"What is it?"

He approached me carefully, as if he thought I would bolt. When he was close enough to make my head swim with his heat and scent, he slowly raised both hands to cradle my face. His caress was as light as the touch of a soap bubble settling on a feather pillow.

"Are you alright?" he asked, a tone of something I couldn't quite identify simmering in his deep, rich voice.

"Of course," I replied, raising my own hands to lightly grasp his wrists with a reassuring squeeze. "Why wouldn't I be?"

The unidentifiable emotion from his voice had migrated to his eyes. He drew me into his arms, settling my cheek against his shoulder. Whatever was in his eyes, he didn't want me to study it too closely, I realized.

"I know what he did to you," he said gently. "I am sorry you had to see him today."

I stiffened in his arms. "I don't want to talk about Sam."

He was silent for a moment, his big, warm hand rubbing gentle circles on my lower back. Now that was nice. Maybe I could encourage him to move that hand a little bit lower.

"I understand that it is upsetting to speak of him, but I feel I must," he continued after a few moments. When I raised my head and glared at him, he began to rush the words out, as if he was afraid I would walk away from him.

"I meant what I said to Sam and Jacob about your worth. It is important to me that you know that," he said. It wasn't at all what I was expecting him to say. I would have understood anger at Sam's insults. Or even possessiveness. But I didn't know what to do with this earnestness. Was this his way of … declaring himself?

"And I want you to know that I would never do to you what Sam did." His hands crept to my shoulders and his eyes held mine purposefully, powerfully. "I will not leave you, Leah. I do not think I could anymore, even if I wanted to."

_Holy fuck._

Suddenly, I didn't care if he was ready or not. I had to have him. Here. Now. In the open, in this clearing where Jake or Seth could come looking for us. Where our bed would be the hard ground instead of my soft mattress. Even the ricochets of Sam's hate-filled anger echoing behind us didn't faze me. I didn't care about any of it. I only cared that he had promised he would stay with me.

I threw my arms around his neck, hopped gracelessly to clamp my legs around his waist and ground my mouth onto his. He was startled into momentary stillness. A shudder surged through his lean body, his arms twined around me and he began to return my greed-filled kisses.

He hadn't kissed me this passionately since that night in my room. I buried my fingers in his hair. The clearing spun around us, then tipped backward, and I felt my back meet the grass. The soft coolness of the ground beneath me was a sensual foil to his hard heat above me.

He sucked lightly on my lower lip, urging my mouth open. I didn't need much encouragement. As soon as my lips parted, his tongue plunged into my mouth. His hands wormed their way under my skirt and up my thighs.

Apparently, even half-vampires need to breathe. He broke the kiss, coming up for air, gasping raggedly against my lips. His hands kept moving, skimming over my thighs, exploring the waistband of my underwear, cupping and gripping my ass cheeks. "I have wanted to do this all day," he panted, hiking my skirt up to my waist. His fingers found the top of my panties again and began tugging them down.

_Oh yes! Finally!_

My body was humming with anticipation. He was finally going to fill me with his hard, hot flesh. I'd already accepted that his soul was a part of mine. I was ready for his body to be part of me, too.

I raised my hips to allow him to freely pull my underwear down my legs. As soon as the cotton cleared my toes, I was on my knees, pushing him to a seated position so that I could make quick work of the buttons down his shirt front. I hurriedly shoved the shirt off his shoulders while he tugged the stretchy neckline of my dress down, under my breasts. As if he had a degree in brassiere design, he unhooked the front clasp of my bra and pushed the halves aside, in too much of a hurry to get his mouth on my tits to bother removing the damn thing.

He feasted on my breasts, sucking and licking at the nipples, using both hands to massage, cup and fondle. "I will make you forget that whelp ever touched you," he promised in a low growl against my sizzling skin.

A harsh, screeching laugh sliced through the haze of lust that surrounded us. Torn between surprise and desire, my brain tried to identify the sound. _What the hell is a hyena doing wandering around the Olympic Peninsula?_

My eyes popped open just as Nahuel whipped around to face the intruder that had entered the clearing behind us.

We were fucked, and not at all in the way we'd hoped to be. Standing at the edge of the clearing was a trio of vampires—two females and a male.

The male's eyes were a gory, stomach-churning red, and he was licking his lips like he was looking at an all-you-can-eat buffet. From the twist of his mouth, I assumed he'd been the source of that chilling laugh. One of the females—the smaller, olive-skinned one with a slick of straight black hair pouring down her back—stepped forward and addressed my imprint in a lilting, exotically accented voice.

"Nahuel, you must come with us now," she said, calmly, as if she were inviting him over for cocktails. "If you come willingly, perhaps Father will allow you to keep your human pet."

Like two heads of a single powerful monster, Nahuel and I moved together. As he sprang at the intruders, I phased, my shout of rage morphing into a howl that would summon every wolf in hearing range. On the chance that one of my pack brothers was already in wolf form, I also began screaming in my head.

_Helphelphelphelp …this is it! This is it!_

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><p><em><strong>End Note: <strong>OK, let me have it. Yes, I realize this is the third straight chapter where I've done a sexual cliffy. I promise it will be the last. I promise you the next time it looks like Leah and Nahuel are going to finally get busy, they will! Truly! Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing.  
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	14. What's Really Happening?

**_A/N: _**_Okay, you were all far kinder to me than I deserved after leaving everyone hanging last chapter. I do love me a good sexual cliffy, but I promise none in this chapter. Evelyn and MunkeeRajah worked their magic again with this chapter. I love them more than Jake's abs!_

_Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, but if she doesn't get off her butt and finally finish Midnight Sun, well, SOMEONE might just decide to do it for her!_

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><p>Chapter 14 – What's Really Happening?<p>

**Leah POV**

Nahuel was not a fighter. Jasper had sure tried to turn him into one over this past month, and he was passable at hand-to-hand against a single opponent. But when it came to the bigger picture and making tactical decisions, well, let's just say it's a good thing he was pretty because he sure wasn't smart.

Which is probably why Nahuel made the worst possible move in our current situation; he immediately jumped the one foe whose superior strength and speed pretty much guaranteed his attack would fail. It wasn't an opening move I would have recommended. If I'd had time to think about it and communicate with him, I would have advised him to go first for the dark little female, who was obviously in charge. She was smaller, probably slower and less strong, and killing her would be like cutting the head off a snake.

As soon as short stuff made her less than generous offer to spare my life, however, my imprint made his move. He launched himself straight at the creepy-eyed male who looked to be a newborn. Amazingly, he actually managed to connect, hitting the male squarely in the midsection. His blow had no effect at all, other than to put him within the hands of his opponent, who was a hell of a lot stronger and faster.

Moving so fast he blurred, the male flipped Nahuel around, slammed him to the ground and pinned him there with a foot on his throat. Nahuel snarled and thrashed beneath the newborn's boot, clawing at his leg. The newborn completely ignored his struggles, instead turning his attention to me with an almost bored expression. The two females quickly assumed defensive postures, placing themselves between my trapped imprint and me.

"Leah, run!" Nahuel shouted, pulling frantically at the newborn's ankle. "They will not harm me. Run!"

If I'd learned to read Nahuel's emotions in the past month, he'd become equally adept at interpreting my body language when I was in wolf form. So he knew without my verbalization what my answer was to his command. There was no way in hell I would run and leave him. But I had no idea what I was going to do to save him.

Terror lanced through my body. I was never afraid for myself in a fight. But the thought of seeing Nahuel injured, or worse, was nearly paralyzing me with fear. I froze where I stood, gripped by totally unfamiliar indecision.

All of this happened before the echo of my warning howl had faded. In the next second, Jake and Seth's thoughts blazed into my awareness.

_There in two minutes! _Jake my pack brothers' thoughts, I knew they were on their way, following our scents. Jasper and Emmett were with them. Within seconds, Paul and Beau's thoughts joined the mix. Help was definitely on the way, and when it arrived, the hostile vampires would be severely outgunned.

Too bad Nahuel and I were getting our asses handed to us right now.

I was pretty sure both females were Nahuel's hybrid sisters. The leader referring to their "father" seemed to confirm that. I had no doubt that vampire bastard had sent this trio to grab Nahuel. All three of them seemed to know instinctively that I was a threat. Maybe they were beginning to realize just what had happened to the newborn Joham had sent to attack Charlie.

One of the females began moving slowly, cautiously to my left, while the little leader danced to the right. Their attempt to divide my attention might have been obvious, but it was pretty much guaranteed to work. My head knew I should be watching what these two _femme fatales_ were doing, but the psychic tether that bound me to Nahuel ensured that I couldn't take my eyes away from him.

They were fast, they were focused, and they were a practiced team. As the two females jockeyed for position, the newborn upped the ante. He leaned his weight on the foot that held Nahuel to the ground, cutting off his air. My imprint's eyes bulged and his thrashing grew weaker. I knew it was a ploy to get me to tip my hand, but that didn't stop me from responding.

My field of vision constricted to a single narrow and terrifying point: Nahuel's gasping face. I leapt at the newborn without another thought. The females hit me from both sides, and I felt the sharp spear of pain that could only be a rib or two cracking beneath the impact. I knew I had to keep moving, and I jumped straight into the air, managing to shake the leader off. The other one kept her grip despite my leap. I began writhing, rolling over her repeatedly, trying to use the ground to scrape her off me. No matter what I tried, she stuck, snapping her jaws above my shoulders and back, heading inexorably toward my throat.

I don't know where Nahuel got the air to scream, but his hoarse shout halted the hybrid's attack instantly. "I will go! Stop! I will go with you!"

That breather was all I needed to throw the hybrid off with a heave that I drew up from my soul. She rolled across the clearing, regaining her feet in a single fluid movement that again put her between Nahuel and me.

Now that Nahuel appeared willing to do what they wanted, the newborn relaxed his weight off Nahuel's throat. Not even bothering to draw a full breath, he continued shouting at his sister, his raspy voice intense, pleading, cajoling. I didn't need to understand the language he spoke to know that he was bargaining with her for my life. I realized he couldn't know that the fight would be over in less than a minute when Jake and the others arrived. His distraction would buy us just enough time.

The smaller female didn't take her eyes off me, but inclined her head to indicate she was listening to him. Nahuel was still talking, his voice strained, his tone urgent. Then, he said something that fully captured his sister's attention. Her eyes—an unusual hazel shade—went wide with astonishment and then whipped to Nahuel. He had her full attention now, which was why she didn't witness the spectacle of my pack brothers arriving with Jasper and Emmett on their heels.

"We need one alive!"

Jasper's shouted command drew everyone's eyes to him, just as Seth's huge, hairy body slammed into Nahuel's tiny sister like a wrecking ball. Their entwined forms went careening across the clearing, splashing into the stream.

In the next instant, Paul and Beau were shredding the other female. Killing a hybrid vampire was not like terminating a full vamp. Ripping apart a full vampire was actually a pretty clean process that didn't involve any messy fluids. Hybrids, however, had heartbeats and blood. Tearing one apart was a gruesome, unpleasant task. Within seconds, my pack brothers and a patch of ground around them were bathed in blood and gore.

The newborn lost it. Being a newborn, his control couldn't have been great to begin with, but at the first spray of blood from the injured hybrid, he flung himself toward his erstwhile ally. Emmett caught the crazed newborn easily and gracefully the instant its foot left Nahuel's throat. It was a testimony to the amazing self-control the Cullens cultivated that neither Emmett nor Jasper so much as blinked at the bloodbath taking place under their noses. Emmett easily held the newborn's arms behind it while Jasper deftly twisted its head off.

It was over in seconds, before I could even think to move, before my melting mind absorbed that my imprint was safe, no thanks to me.

Completely ignoring the bloody, dismembered body of his half-sister, Nahuel scrambled on his hands and knees across the short expanse of grass separating us. He threw his arms around my neck, knocking me to the ground and sending shards of pain through my cracked ribs. His hands fisted in my fur, and he buried his face against my pelt. Relief washed through me, and I clenched my eyes shut, relishing the feeling of his muscled body, warm and alive and _safe_, pressed against me.

In the next heartbeat, my relief evaporated as I realized I couldn't hear Seth's thoughts in my head. My eyes sprang open and swept the clearing, searching for my brother. What the hell was going on?

Paul and Beau, covered in blood and standing over the torn body of the hybrid, were gaping toward the stream behind me. Their tongues lolled out of their yawning maws, and blood-tinged drool dripped off Paul's canines. Jake stood at the edge of the stream, puzzlement written on every line of his enormous form. Jasper, still holding the newborn's head tucked under his arm like a football, was looking in the same direction. So was Emmett.

The biggest Cullen let out a low whistle through his teeth. "Well what the hell is _that_ all about?"

I swiveled my head toward the stream, dreading what I would see. But instead of the horror I expected—Seth's battered, bloodied body—what I saw was bewildering and bizarre.

My brother sat waist-deep in the water, naked, in human form. That was why his thoughts had dropped out of my awareness: he'd phased. Nahuel's hybrid sister was sitting in Seth's lap, twined around him like a baby possum clinging to its mother. Seth hunched his body over hers, his beefy arms wrapped around her tiny form. He almost looked like he was protecting her. His normally clear, open and friendly eyes were narrowed, distrustful and almost feral. When he spoke, I barely recognized his voice as my brother's.

"Stay back, all of you," he growled, baring his teeth.

Instantly, Jake phased to human form. He took a cautious step toward Seth, his toes edging the low bank of the stream. "Seth, take it easy, man. What's going on?"

"I mean it!" Seth shouted, peeling the female off him and pushing her miniscule form behind him. She was so small she practically disappeared behind his broad back. During the whole process, she didn't allow her skin to leave contact with his for even a second. She shifted fluidly behind Seth, but kept her arms and legs woven around him. Tendrils of her long, wet hair stayed wrapped around his throat and chest. Seth growled again. "Stay the fuck away!"

Jake's spine stiffened at the frantic threat in Seth's voice. I'd heard him do it just a handful of times in the past six years, but I still immediately recognized the Alpha authority Jake infused into his next command.

"Seth, explain yourself. _Now_."

Seth flinched and gasped like he'd just been hit in the face with a sock full of wet sand. He adored and idolized Jake, and that made the lash of the Alpha command all the more potent for him. He squeezed his eyes shut, the trembling of his body stirring splashes in the stream around him.

I'd gotten used to thinking of my kid brother as a huge, nearly invincible predator. But in that moment I could only see the little boy he'd once been, crawling into my bed when a bad dream woke him, and the almost-man who'd sought the same comfort from me the night our father died. Seth made a visible effort to control himself. When he looked at Jake again, his eyes were clear and aware.

"I know you think she's the enemy, but I can't let you hurt her," he said. "She's mine, Jake."

_Christ on a crutch._

I knew what he meant as soon as the words were out of his mouth. From the stupefied expression on Jake's face, I was guessing he got it, too. But Emmett, Jasper, Paul and Beau didn't know that there were already _two_ wolf-hybrid pairs in our pack. They needed Seth's elaboration.

"She's my imprint."

Informing us that he'd just been elected supreme mighty ruler of the seventh inner circle of hell might have been more shocking, but only slightly. Paul and Beau both yelped in surprise, and Jake was so stunned he sat his naked ass down in the mud beside the stream. In a rare slip of control, Jasper wafted a wave of his own astonishment through the group, making the moment seem even more surreal than it already was.

Nahuel's shaking voice didn't make the atmosphere feel any lighter. "Jake, I also must ask you for her safety," he said. "I owe her my life. Without her aid, I would never have been able to reach Forks."

Jacob's dark eyes, uncharacteristically round and bewildered, found Nahuel. "This is the sister who helped you escape?" Nahuel nodded once.

Jake climbed to his feet. "Seth, are you sure? Can you phase with me so I can check?"

Seth shook his head. "I don't want to frighten her. If I phase I won't be able to communicate with her," he said. "Trust me, Jake. I'm sure. I've seen enough through the pack bond to know what I'm feeling." His eyes flashed to me before sliding away guiltily. My heart rate hadn't really slowed yet, and Seth's stealthy glance pumped it up again.

Was it possible my brother had guessed my secret, as my mother had predicted he would?

On the heels of that worry, I felt Nahuel tense beside me. He hadn't released his hold on me this whole time, and didn't miss Seth's look. Was the truth finally crystalizing for him? Was seeing it happen to Seth and his sister making him realize he'd lived through the same thing himself just a month ago?

I didn't have time to wonder, because Nahuel's sister chose that moment to speak in her musical voice. She was still plastered to Seth's back, her body visibly shaking. "Seth?" He started, almost as if he hadn't realized she could speak. He craned his neck to look at her over his shoulder.

"Yes?" His voice was tentative and unsure.

"Your name is Seth?" He nodded. "I'm Anjali." Her eyes moved warily over the rest of our group, lingering a bit longer than I liked on Nahuel. Then, as if she'd made a decision she didn't entirely trust, she crept back around Seth's body, still touching him, so that she was kneeling in the water before him. She slid her trembling hands up his neck until her tiny palms came to rest on either side of his jaw.

"Do you know what's happened to us?" It didn't sound like she was asking him for an explanation, as Jake had, but rather confirmation that he also understood something she already knew. When Seth nodded, her lush mouth curved into a slight smile.

"You are my mate," she said, her voice now sure and strong. "I never dreamed I would find one. It wasn't what Father had planned for me. But nothing matters more to me now than you. I will do and be whatever you require." As if they were completely alone, she sealed her lips to his, and Seth returned her passionate kiss without hesitation. His big arms pulled her tiny body flush against his chest and he kissed her like sucking face with a half-vampire was something he did every day of his life. Actually, knowing Seth, he probably _would_ do it every day from now on.

That was it. Like everything else in his life, Seth approached this catastrophic shift with an open heart. That easily, he accepted this realignment of his reality and embraced his future with a half-breed imprint he knew next to nothing about. And that easily, _she_ accepted _him_—if the fact that she now appeared to be trying to suck his tonsils out through his teeth was any clue to her state of mind at the moment.

_Of course she loves him already. Everyone loves Seth._

I felt like I'd been kicked in the gut. Why couldn't things be this easy, this effortless, this certain, for Nahuel and me? Maybe the source of our difficulties wasn't that he was half-vampire, but that I was a mistrustful, maladjusted bitch.

While my brother and his imprint acted like they were alone in the back of my mother's Buick, the rest of us stood and sat around like morons. None of us were used to feeling this unsure of ourselves.

Finally, Emmett broke the stagnant silence. "Jeez, get a room," he grumbled, as he pulled his cell from his pocket and speed-dialed.

"Carlisle, we need you and Edward. We have injuries and an alleged imprinting." He snapped the phone shut, shrugging at Jake's questioning expression. "What? I could hear Leah's ribs crack from a mile away. And Edward will be able to read what's really going on with these two."

Nahuel seemed to skip over every other part of Emmett's statement except for one small detail. He dragged my head around to face him, so that he could glare disapprovingly into my eyes. "You are injured? Why did you not phase and tell me?" Did he really think I was willing to be naked in front of this motley crew? I rolled my eyes and shook off his hands before climbing to my feet. And then sat back down just as quickly when my ribs screamed in protest.

Still sitting in the stream, Seth and the female had finally come up for air. Her arms were clamped around his neck; her head nestled on his shoulder. _They look so fucking peaceful._

Jasper, Paul and Beau began to drag vampire and hybrid pieces into a pile. Jasper dropped the newborn's head onto the stack of body parts. He approached Jake, who still hadn't said anything. Our Alpha's face clearly said he was trying to process the fact that there were now three members of his pack with hybrid imprints.

"Might be better for us all if Seth's right," Jasper murmured, nodding toward the girl. "If he is, stands to reason she'd be more willing to help us. She could give us the break we need to get a step ahead of Joham."

I didn't know what to think, much less what to hope for. But as Nahuel sank back to the ground beside me and rested his forehead against my shoulder, I was pretty sure the time had come to have a talk with him about imprinting.

And, in particular, about ours.


	15. Repetition

**_A/N:_**_ Welcome to all the new readers who've found this fic through the Perv Pack's review. I'm especially thrilled to see so many Bella/Edward fans trying out pack fic for the first time. I myself am a B/E girl, but totally agree with the PPSS review that Leah and Nahuel got the shaft big time in BD and deserve their own happy ending. So here we are!_

_MunkeeRajah and Evelyn are still with me, holding my sweaty hand through each chapter. They are da bomb!_

_Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and no copyright infringement is intended.  
><em>

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><p>Chapter 15 - Repetition<p>

**Jacob POV**

I am six-foot eight-inches, two hundred-plus pounds of muscle, supernatural force, super strength, and—I like to tell myself—raw sex appeal. I am Alpha male to the bone. And I am _owned_ body and soul by a woman who's about half my weight and more than a foot shorter than I. So I am usually the last person to call another guy _whipped_ to his face, or even behind his back. Also, it takes a really overt, inappropriate level of PDAs to make me want to toss my cookies.

But watching Seth and his new imprint's near-constant pawing and petting sure made me feel like my lunch was coming back up. I could only imagine how revolting it might be to someone whose tolerance level was a bit lower than mine, say, someone like Leah.

And really, I could _only_ imagine Leah's reaction. Because I hadn't seen her since the day Seth imprinted. As soon as Carlisle had finished patching her up, right there at the scene of the fight, Leah had taken off like a big-assed bird. She'd been holed up, alone, at her mom's house ever since, according to my sources on the rez.

Nahuel's sister, Anjali, was now staying with the Cullens, where everyone agreed she'd be safer. There was no prying Seth away from her, so he was here with us, too. Sue had been staying with Charlie for a while now, partly to help ease his transition into our weird world, and partly to avoid Nahuel. Things still weren't easy between the two of them.

As for Leah's imprint … well, I wasn't really sure _what_ was up with him.

Instead of going home with Leah, like I would have expected, Nahuel had decided to camp out with the Cullens, too. He said he wanted to stay with his sister, help her adjust to being free of Joham, and help us get as much useful information out of her as possible. And she was a fount of information. She seemed eager to tell us everything she knew about Joham and his plans.

I remembered Nahuel telling the Volturi that he'd had a sister who'd reached maturity not long before our confrontation over Nessie. Anjali was that sister. She'd been born in India, and her mother had been one of the thousands of homeless who lived on the streets of Mumbai. Just like Nahuel's mother, Anjali's hadn't survived her birth. The difference was Joham had stuck around long enough to retrieve her, hoping she'd be useful to him. As it turned out, she had been.

Anjali was a tracker. She wasn't as powerful or precise as Demetri, the Volturi guard Bella had planned to kill first in order to give me a chance to run with Ness. It had taken her years to help her father locate Huilen and Nahuel in South America. She hadn't realized Joham would torture Nahuel and kill his aunt. When she saw what their father was doing to her half-brother, she helped Nahuel escape. Joham had punished her for that. Seth's eyes had been dark with anger and pain when he told me about the still-healing wounds left on her body.

She'd also been the "witness" who had given the false description in the Port Angeles murder. Anjali confirmed the murder and framing attempt had been a ploy to try to flush Nahuel out of hiding. She'd been able to track him to the rez, but Joham's minions couldn't get past our defenses to grab him.

She'd never been entirely comfortable with Joham's master plan to create a new race. But he was the only family she had, and the life he'd raised her to live was the only one she'd known. Until she met Seth.

We didn't need Edward's mind-reading abilities to know that she was completely devoted to Leah's baby brother. She turned her back on Joham and betrayed everything she knew about him the instant Seth asked her for information. Edward and Jasper had no problem confirming the truth of everything she said. She seemed to completely embrace the idea that Seth and Nahuel were now her family—and her allegiances lay totally with them.

Yeah, Nahuel was definitely a big help with Anjali, but that still didn't explain what the hell he was doing hanging out with all of us at the Cullens' house.

He and Leah hadn't seen or spoken to each other for three days, and I had no idea how they were doing it. I'd go crazy if I were apart from Ness for that long. I didn't know any bonded pair, wolf or vampire, that could pull that kind of time apart. Hell, Seth couldn't even last three minutes. He was almost as bad as Edward, and that was saying something.

If you'd asked me on the day of the barbecue, I'd have said Nahuel had it bad for Leah. I'd thought he was feeling the effects of the imprinting as much as she was. The dude held her hand in public and was ready to duke it out with Sam over her, for fuck's sake. So I was having a hard time understanding his rapid one-eighty from blatant fascination to apparent disinterest. And if I was confused, Leah must be spinning in circles.

I really wanted to take Nahuel aside and kick his ass—slowly and thoroughly—for putting Leah through this separation. Since that would definitely cheese her off, I figured I'd have to settle for having a talk with him instead. But before I had that conversation, there was another uncomfortable chat I needed to have.

In the past six years, Carlisle had made it one of his (many) life missions to learn everything he could about shape-shifter genetics, imprinting and how both might interact with vampire nature. There was also no one on the planet who knew more about vampire-human hybrids than Carlisle, except maybe Joham. While part of Carlisle's interest was scientific, his real impetus was the need to know as much as possible so that he could better protect his granddaughter.

My imprinting on Renesmee six years ago had been a marvel for my vampire family and a miracle to me. But we'd all thought it was pretty much a one-shot thing. I mean, what were the chances of another wolf meeting up with another hybrid, let alone imprinting on one? Then, along cames Nahuel and, hello, we've got two hybrid-wolf pairs. Okay, I could buy two such coincidences.

But then Seth and Anjali became lucky couple number three, and I couldn't deny anymore that something was definitely up. I was hoping Carlisle might shed some light onto what that was. I really needed to know if I should keep the unattached members of my pack out of the fighting if more of Joham's half-breed offspring showed up in Forks. Or was that even my call to make? Sam would have said it was, but I wasn't sure.

Unfortunately, in order for this conversation to be really useful, I might have to compromise my beta's privacy. For that, I was truly sorry. I would try to keep her secret if I could, but if it were a choice between her comfort and the safety of my pack … well, she'd see reason eventually. I hoped.

I'd have felt better if I could have limited the discussion participants to just Carlisle and me. But Seth had a vested interest in what the Doc had to say. He knew I planned to talk to Carlisle, and I was pretty sure he'd already figured out that Leah had imprinted on Nahuel. I wanted Edward and Jasper there because their gifts could possibly offer a layer of insight into what was happening to my pack.

Late in the night, on the third day after the attack, when the other vampires of our bizarre family were hunting, and Nahuel and Anjali were sleeping in two of the Cullens' guest rooms, the five of us gathered in Carlisle's study.

Seth sprawled on the leather couch, his head propped on a throw pillow. For so long, I'd thought of him as everyone's kid brother. Seeing him stretched bonelessly on the sofa with a satisfied smirk on his face reminded me that he was no longer a boy. He was a man now—a man many times over, if the sounds that came from the guestroom he and Anjali shared were any indication.

_Sex with your imprint. What a treat that must be._

Standing across the room beside the darkened window, Edward blanched. "Could you _please_ try to control your thoughts?" His tone was more revolted than angry. He knew I was going to deflower his little girl eventually, and he could even accept that—in theory—as long as I married her first. But it still made him intensely uncomfortable to hear me thinking about it. I instantly felt guilty.

_Shit, Edward, I'm sorry. I'm exhausted and stressed, and I just forgot for a minute that Bells isn't here to shield me. I'll work on it._

He accepted my apology with a slight nod and turned his attention to Carlisle, who was already seated behind his desk. I sighed and dropped into one of the armchairs in front of the enormous desk. The first time I'd sat in this very chair, years ago, that damned desk had made me feel like a truant schoolboy about to get his ass paddled in the principal's office.

Carlisle jumped right in, initiating the conversation without preamble. "Jacob, I'm glad you suggested this discussion," he said, leaning forward in his chair and folding his hands on top of the desk. "I think drawing parallels between your experience and Seth's could help us better understand how and why imprinting occurs."

"Agreed." Deciding to follow Carlisle's pace for the conversation, I leaped to my greatest concern. "I need to know what's happening to my pack, Doc. Seth and Anjali, Renesmee and me … this isn't just a fluke, is it? There's some reason we're being drawn together this way."

"I believe so," he replied, glancing at Seth for a moment before looking back to me. "I've discussed imprinting with Sam and with your father at length. The best theory we've been able to develop is that the purpose of imprinting is to ensure a mated couple has the optimum chance of passing the shape-shifting gene to their progeny."

I was feeling impatient. "I know this, Doc. Tell me something new."

"You first," Carlisle said with a grin. He was enjoying peeling away the layers of this mystery, like a housewife hooked on the latest Jackie Collins novel. Usually, the Doc was a lot less annoying than the rest of his vampire family. Usually, but not tonight.

I sighed again. "What do you want to know?"

"I can tell you one thing that's different about a wolf-hybrid imprinting," Jasper interjected. He'd posted himself near the sofa, holding up the wall near the end where Seth's head was propped. He reached down and gave my young pack mate an affectionate knuckle-thump between the eyes. Seth hissed and reached up to rub the already-fading red spot on his forehead.

"It's mutual," Jasper said. "From day one."

I'd suspected as much. When a wolf imprinted on a human, there was a kind of getting-to-know-each-other period. Sam had really had to work to convince Emily that they should be together; she hadn't wanted to hurt Leah any more than he did. My sister, Rachel, had been horrified at the idea of a relationship with Paul because he was so much younger than she. And because he was a total jerk.

That warming-up period, when the wolf had to convince his imprint to accept him, didn't seem to occur when the imprint was a hybrid. Even before she was born, Renesmee had felt the pull of the imprinting bond. I could see the evidence in Nahuel's behavior, too, despite the fact that he'd been acting like a smacked ass for the past few days. And Anjali was nauseatingly overt about her feelings for Seth.

Jasper's observation was based on what his talent told him about the emotions of those around him, but it only confirmed what I'd thought for a while.

"Another difference—it's more intense," Edward offered. Like Jasper, his talent gave him a unique perspective. He didn't base his observation on speculation; he could _see_ the intensity of the bond in the minds of each couple.

"In a human-wolf pairing, the bond is very strong but still … human … in its level of intensity," he explained. "When one member of the pair is a hybrid, the connection is more powerful. I'd liken it to the bond that exists between mated vampires. I could envision circumstances in which a human imprint might reject the bond and both parties survive the experience, albeit miserably for the rest of their lives."

His golden eyes eased from Carlisle to me. "But a wolf-hybrid pair would not be able to survive that kind of separation," he said. I didn't miss the unspoken subtext of his statement. In his own way, Edward was letting me know he accepted, and finally forgave, my imprinting on his daughter. It was a watershed moment for us, and in typical Edward style, he'd played it out quietly and subtly.

"Thanks," I murmured, not caring if the others in the room wondered why I was thanking him.

Seth sat up, sprang to his feet, and began pacing around the room. I knew he was anxious to get back to his imprint, but he also wanted to be a contributing part of the conversation.

"So what about the sixty-four thousand dollar question?" he asked. "Why is this happening?"

"I have a theory," Carlisle eagerly replied, his enthusiasm making his face look nearly as young and callow as Seth.

I had to laugh. "Course you do, Doc. Let's hear it."

"Well, we believe that a wolf imprints on a specific human with whom he has the best chance of creating children that will carry the shape-shifting gene," he repeated. "Of course, we know that gene remains dormant until triggered by the prolonged presence of a vampire in the wolf's environment."

"Been there, done that, Doc," I said, losing patience rapidly. I really should have napped today before having this conversation in the middle of the night, I thought to myself.

"Who's a grumpy bastard?" Edward teased under his breath.

Carlisle certainly heard him, but chose to ignore our one-sided banter. He continued laying out his theory like a professor schooling a roomful of hung-over undergrads. "Perhaps a wolf-hybrid union takes that biological imperative to the next level. What if the presence of vampire DNA in the progeny of such a union could ensure that the shape-shifting gene was activated from birth?"

I had to give it to him. Carlisle had dumbfounded a group of men who'd heard, seen and done just about everything. But none of us had thought of this.

Jasper broke the stunned silence with a low whistle. "Well, that would mean those children would be something entirely new, wouldn't it? A new species."

Seth made a choking sound, wheezing out his words like an asthmatic poodle. "So we're doing … naturally … exactly what Joham is trying to do? Create a new race?"

Jasper laughed ruefully. "Ya think? Hope you've been using condoms, buddy boy."

Seth turned red and collapsed back onto the sofa. "Ohhhh fuuuccck," he breathed, drawing the words out to several horrified syllables. Suddenly, his eyes flashed to me. "Jake, you gotta warn the other guys about this. I mean, I love Anjali, and I wouldn't change anything about imprinting on her, but the other guys need to know this could happen to them, too."

Carlisle shook his head. "I agree that this is a momentous development, but I don't see any need to alarm the other members of your pack," he said.

If I'd been less tired, I might have figured out faster where Carlisle was headed.

"Two instances of wolf-hybrid imprinting are interesting and unusual, but hardly constitute a pattern to raise concern," he continued.

If I'd been less brain-blitzed by Carlisle's theory, I might have realized Seth was too stunned to keep his mouth shut.

"Three," he interjected.

I don't think I'd ever seen Carlisle caught off guard until this moment. "Excuse me?"

"Three," Seth repeated, distractedly. "There are three wolf-hybrid pairs."

In the next instant, he realized what he'd just done. His guilt-filled eyes found mine, and he groaned. "Shit! I'm sorry, Jake."

Edward, of course, said nothing; he already knew just who that third couple was. I could see Jasper and Carlisle approaching the realization at the same speed. They'd put two and two together in about another second, and it would add up to my beta and the only half-vampire who would be her type.

"She should have told me, you know," Seth said, uncharacteristic anger replacing the guilt in his voice. "I mean, I'm her _brother_. Maybe I could have helped her somehow."

He was right, of course. I wanted to tell him it was okay, and that I wasn't pissed at him for letting slip something he shouldn't have had to figure out on his own. I didn't get the chance to say anything though, because Jasper and Carlisle were now wearing matching expressions of astonishment.

And as they both spoke in unison …

Jasper: "Leah!"

Carlisle: "Nahuel!"

… one half of the pair in question, the hybrid that had been kept in the dark by the wolf, picked that moment to open the door to Carlisle's study.

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><p><strong><em>End Note:<em>**_ Dunh-dunh-DUH! So the wolf is (at last) out of the lair. How do you think Nahuel will react? And what's going to happen if/when Joham finds out about what's going on with the wolf pack and his hybrid offspring?_

_I didn't start writing this fic for the feedback, but I have to admit I've become a total review hoo-arh, so if you haven't done so yet (and even if you have), please click that little review link at the bottom of the screen and leave me some love. I promise a special treat for lucky reviewer number 200, whoever that turns out to be. Thanks for reading!_


	16. Truth

**_A/N: _**_Just a reminder that lucky reviewer number 200 will get an extra special treat. Plus, I'm going to take the suggestion of reviewer BellaEdwardlover1991: Everyone who reviews this chapter will get a sneak preview of Chapter 17._

_They're always awesome, but my betas Evelyn and MunkeeRajah were particularly helpful with this chapter. They never let me settle for anything less than my best!_

_Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I'm just messing around in her toybox for a while._

* * *

><p>Chapter 16 – Truth<p>

**Leah POV**

Men are lying sacks of shit. Even the good ones. Definitely the half-vampire ones.

And especially the mind-blowingly _beautiful_ half-vampire ones that barge into your life, bowl you over with lust, make you feel hopeful and whole, swear they'll never leave … and then _leave_.

Three days. Three miserable, unending days. That's how long it had been since Nahuel had held me in the clearing, kissed me breathless, and promised he'd stay with me. It had taken him less than an hour to break that promise.

I didn't need the intuition of the imprinting bond to figure out why he wasn't with me right now. Part of me had always known that the day he found someone else to cling to, someone else to ground him, I would no longer be necessary. He'd never really wanted or needed _me_; he'd needed something to help heal the wound that his aunt's murder had ripped in his soul. I'd been a convenient bandage.

For all his passionate kisses, tender touches and affectionate words, I'd only ever been a temporary solution to his problem, and we both knew it. As soon as he realized his sister could become his new family, his replacement for Huilen, he'd shifted his allegiance to her.

I couldn't blame him. I'd always known I was a broken, fucked-up bitch. The fact that I was still buried under the continent-crushing weight of the imprinting was _my_ problem, not his. The fundamental imperative of imprinting compelled me to give Nahuel whatever he needed. Right now, he needed me to stay the hell away from him, so he could have a chance at a family again.

So I went home alone, turned off my cellphone, and marinated in my depression and self-pity for three hellish, airless, dark days and nights. I waited for him to come to me, determined that when he did, I'd tell him everything.

One … two … three. The days crawled by and he never came.

I barely ate or drank and slept only fitfully, even though I was physically and emotionally exhausted. My ribs healed by the second day, but the pain lingered, burrowing deeper into my chest cavity. Eventually, its icy claws would close around my heart, and the rime would freeze each and every cell. Only then, when that wretched muscle was dead at last, would the pain finally stop. I sank beneath the sheer misery of missing _him_.

In the early morning hours of the fourth day, I dreamed of my dad, my subconscious replaying a childhood memory of a time when he had taken Seth and me for ice cream.

Seth, the greedy little weasel, had insisted on having a towering two-scoop cone. I played it safe and had my ice cream in a cup. With his very first lick, Seth dislodged both scoops, and the entire mass toppled to the ground. For five seconds, he just stood there, holding the empty cone and staring at his ice cream melting on the grass. Then his whole face screwed up like someone was pinching him, and he started to bawl at the top of his lungs.

"Help him out, Leah," Dad had said. I had known he wanted me to share my ice cream with my brother, but I was a little kid, too. No way was I going to give up some of _my_ treat just because Seth was getting a payback for being greedy. So I took my spoon, carefully pried up the topmost scoop of Seth's ice cream—the part that hadn't touched the ground—and plopped it back onto his cone. The little bugger had stopped crying immediately and happily went back to licking his cone.

Dad had laughed and hugged me. "Good job, sweetheart," he'd said. The last moments of the dream were so vivid, so powerful, they woke me, and I could swear I felt the lingering pressure of my father's strong arms around me.

My adult brain knew Dad had been trying to turn that experience into a teaching moment. But instead of the lesson he'd intended, about compassion and sharing, my child self had drawn a different conclusion: Crying over a problem was a waste of time. Better to dig in with your spoon (or whatever tool you happened to have) and do something about it.

I'd been acting like a self-indulgent loser, and if my dad were here, he would kick my butt, hand me a spoon and tell me to get scooping. I had no idea how to fix all the things that were wrong between Nahuel and me, or if I even could. But wallowing as I'd been doing sure wasn't going to get me anywhere.

So I hauled my stinky ass out of the bed I'd barely left for three days and got in the shower. I left the shower curtain open, even though water got on the floor. There was no way I was going to dredge up memories by closing that curtain.

By the time I finished in the bathroom, I nearly felt human again. I decided it was time to go back to work. I hadn't been to the tire store in more than a week, and the only reason I was still "employed" there was because the owner was a tribal elder who, like all the elders, cut wolf pack members a lot of slack. Even though I worked in the stock room, my usual shorts and T-shirt were still too casual, so I pulled on jeans and a button-front blouse instead.

As I left my bedroom, I realized the last time I'd been near anything that remotely resembled a meal was Esme's barbecue three days ago. I didn't let myself think about how that had ended. I was so damned hungry now that I was experiencing olfactory hallucinations. I could have sworn the aromas of fresh coffee, eggs, bacon and cinnamon rolls were wafting from the kitchen.

I stepped into the room and realized that, while I wasn't hallucinating, I almost certainly _was_ crazy.

My nose hadn't lied: There _were_ eggs and bacon sizzling in pans on the range. No cinnamon buns, though. That was Nahuel.

At the sight of him, my heart began thumping thunderously against my rib cage, as if the damned thing knew its reason for beating was standing not six feet away. Instead of blood, the traitorous organ was pumping hope, thick and sweet as syrup, through my veins.

My imprint stood at the stove, expertly scrambling the eggs and turning the bacon. Guess he really _had_ been helping Mom all those times they chattered in the kitchen while she made meals. I didn't know why he was here, or what to say to him. All I was sure of was that I didn't want to do or say anything that would make him leave again. So I kept my mouth shut as I cautiously stepped into the kitchen.

He spoke, but didn't look away from his work. "Please sit down, Leah. Your breakfast is ready."

Seth and Jake had been able to repair our kitchen table after Nahuel and I smashed it the day he attacked Charlie. But the chairs had been unsalvageable. The new ones looked good, but were hard as hell to sit on, and I hated them. I sat anyway. I honestly didn't know what else to do.

I couldn't take my eyes off him. I was having trouble processing the reality of his presence in my kitchen. After days of pining for him, to find him here—let alone making me breakfast—was beyond weird. I watched him slide the scrambled eggs and bacon onto a plate that was already graced by four slices of perfectly toasted bread. He brought the dish and a bucket-sized mug of coffee to the table and placed both in front of me. Then he sat down in the chair directly opposite mine, crossed those incredibly long legs of his, and just looked at me.

And what a look it was.

Nahuel was never sexier than when he was angry. The look he was giving me now made it clear that all the previous episodes of rage I'd witnessed in him were like spring showers compared to the hurricane of emotion he was barely keeping contained.

I didn't know why he was pissed; after all, he was the one who ditched me for three days. But I wasn't going to call him on it and risk making him so angry that he walked out before we had a chance to begin bridging the chasm between us.

While my brain was cautious about his anger, my body had a different, more primal reaction. My hands began to shake with a combination of adrenalin and lust, and I clamped them between my thighs under the table to hide my trembling from him. When I made no move to touch the food or even speak, he casually pushed my plate a little closer.

"Please eat," he said, his voice silky and deadly. I'd been salivating like a hound at the smell of the food, but the menace brewing beneath his polite words instantly killed my appetite. I swallowed hard and hesitated with my hand hovering over the fork, trying to decide what to do.

"Eat, Leah," he said more forcefully, the ire in his teak eyes simmering like a kettle approaching its whistle point. "You will not have another chance to do so today."

His words confused and chilled me, but they gave me a hook to use to draw my own voice out of my trembling lips. "What is this, my last meal?" My joke was lame even to my own ears. "Why won't I get to eat again?"

He slowly leaned forward over the table, so close that his cinnamon-and-spice breath caressed my skin. I felt my eyes start to roll back into my head, and I had to force myself to focus on what he was saying.

"Because when you are done with your breakfast, I am going to take you to your bed, and we will not leave it again today." He leaned back, releasing me from the grip of his intoxicating breath. "Perhaps not tomorrow, either."

Desire swept my body, swelling from my groin to race along every contiguous nerve ending, swamping my laboring senses. His sultry promise had stopped my heart for a few seconds, and when the damned thing started ticking again like a stop-watch on speed, it drove a surge of hormone-saturated blood to my brain.

I grabbed the fork and began shoveling eggs into my mouth. He silently watched me root like a pig.

My attention was divided between lustful anticipation and sheer astonishment at just how amazingly good the food was. That's the only explanation for how the shrill voice of my inner bitch was able to push its way out around a mouthful of eggs.

"You left me."

I was shocked at myself for letting that slip out. I was so glad he was here, I didn't care what had kept him away for so long. I gasped as if I could draw those inflammatory words back in along with a gulp of air. Unfortunately, in my attempt to reel back that accusation, I sucked eggs into my windpipe instead. I choked and coughed, bits of food spewing out with each hack. I forced myself to swallow the remainder of the mouthful, and grabbed the mug to wash everything down with the coffee.

_Oh, THAT was just sexy as hell. _

_Shut UP you fucking sarcastic harpy. Haven't you done enough?_

He interrupted my silent attempts to bitch-slap that nasty inner voice into submission.

"You should have told me," he said, his deep voice dripping with reproach.

My brain appeared to be on a five-second processing delay. "What?" I mumbled, only partially registering that his words didn't seem like an appropriate response to my accusation.

My dimness seemed to stoke the banked fires of his indignation. His anger flared, and the careful control he'd been holding onto began to smoke away. He leaned forward again, gripping the edge of the table with both hands. The muscles in his jaw twitched visibly as he struggled to rein in his fury.

"I should not have had to learn from another that you have _imprinted_ on me," he hissed through clenched teeth. "_You_ should have told me."

When I'd kicked myself out of my depression this morning, I'd been ready to accept the probability that I could _never_ tell him. How could I risk giving him that kind of power if he no longer needed me? Now, it didn't really matter how he'd found out, whether it was Edward, Jake or even Seth who had given me up. He knew, and he'd already garnered enough information about imprinting to realize at least some of the implications of it.

Suddenly, what he'd said about not getting out of bed made sense in a whole new light. Apparently he thought being my imprint _entitled_ him to fuck me.

Now, I was fuming, and my ire steamed away my caution. I threw the fork down, and it clattered off the plate, scattering eggs across the table and bouncing a slice of toast to the floor.

"When was I supposed to tell you? You disappeared for three fucking days," I snarled. "Right _after_ you said you would never leave me, by the way. Now you waltz in here like you think we should just pick up where we left off three goddamned days ago?"

Outrage at the utter gall of his assumption pulled me out of the chair until I was standing, palms pressed flat to the table, leaning over him and shouting in his face. "You think you should get to fuck me just because you're my imprint?"

It was the boiling point for both of us.

Nahuel surged to his feet, rage carved on every line of his flawless body and face. Without warning, he seized a corner of the table and flipped it over. Food and cutlery went flying. The plate and mug crashed to the floor and shattered.

"Yes, I want to fuck you!" he roared, lunging forward so that we were nose to nose. "I want to fuck you because I am in love with you!"

I took a startled step backward, slipped on a clump of spilled egg, and landed ass-first on the floor with a loud, wet smack. I sprawled there looking up at him, amazed beyond words. After weeks of being afraid to let myself hope that he felt something for me—and three days of dying inside because I was sure he _didn't_—having him bellow his declaration in a moment of wrath was simply more than my brain could process.

The moment was surreal and overwhelming and just so very … _us_.

His revelation popped open the drain on my tank of ticked-off, but _his_ temper was still at a full, rolling boil. He followed me to the floor, crouching over me on his hands and knees, his heat pushing me down amid cold, wet food and sharp shards of broken plate.

His voice dropped to a low, lethal growl. "I am in love with you," he repeated, his seething eyes daring me to disagree. "You are mine. _Mine! _And I am yours."

He straddled my thighs, sitting back on his heels, imprisoning my legs beneath his weight. My eyes dropped to the crotch of his jeans, where his erection was straining against the denim. _That can't be comfortable. _There was no mistaking what he wanted, what he intended.

His hands went to my shirt front, and he began tugging open the buttons, his movements rough and jerky.

"You had no right to keep this from me," he snarled. "I thought I was losing my mind. I thought I was becoming like my sire, desiring a human woman to the point of insanity."

His fingers were shaking so badly now that he couldn't negotiate the remaining buttons. I reached up to do it for him. He brushed my hands away, grabbed two fistfuls of my shirt and yanked. Buttons shot across the floor. He didn't even bother trying to unclasp my bra, instead breaking the front hook with a single powerful snap.

I thought my bared breasts might calm him, or at least slow him down; after all, Nahuel loved my tits. But his fury and lust were driving him into a frenzy, and his hands went straight to the fly of my pants. He unzipped me, his long fingers gathering the waistband of my jeans and underwear as he began to drag them down my body. When he couldn't get them over the curve of my ass, he paused and growled his frustration. His eyes, feral and barely focused, found mine.

"Help me," he demanded.

And oh, how I _wanted_ to lift my hips. Let him rip off my jeans and just pound into me until neither of us could move. Dear God, how I wanted that! But damned if I'd let him fuck me in anger, and definitely not on a kitchen floor covered in cold food and shards of ceramic. We both deserved better than that.

I didn't think I'd be able to reason with him, though. He was breathing in sharp, shallow pants, his body all but vibrating above me. He was too far over the edge for me to successfully talk him down. So I did the next best thing I could think of: I put my hands on the center of his chest and shoved. I'm strong, and he wasn't expecting it, so I had no trouble toppling him backward off me.

Now it was his turn to flop on the floor, stunned and confused, as I disentangled my legs from his and stood up. Surprise and a hint of disappointment bled into the anger in his eyes. He thought I was going to shut him down again.

Holding his bewildered gaze, I shrugged out of the remnants of my shirt and bra. My jeans and panties were next. When I stood nude before him, my clothes in an untidy pile on the linoleum beside him, I gave him a slow, hot smile. I carefully stepped away from the food and broken dishes scattered on the floor. I stretched my arm out and offered him my hand, palm up.

"Are you coming?" I asked quietly.

He was off the floor and on me in a heartbeat. His mouth crushed down on mine, his tongue demanding immediate entry. His natural grace seemed to have escaped him. He was all awkward hands and legs as he tried to speed-walk me backward down the hall, while devouring my lips as if we'd been apart for months instead of days. If we kept moving like this, we would be on the floor and going at it in the hallway, which would be only slightly better than the kitchen floor, but not nearly as wonderful as my bed.

I buried my fingers in his hair and used my grip to pull his mouth away. His eyes were dazed, his breathing so rapid and shallow that I wasn't certain his brain was getting enough oxygen to process the English language. It surely wasn't getting much _blood_, because every spare drop in his body was trapped in that awe-inspiring bulge behind his zipper.

"Pick me up," I ordered. You'd think having his lover _tell_ him to carry her to bed would be a mood killer for him. Apparently not. He swept my legs around his waist. One hand slid under my ass for support and the other clutched my back roughly. I would probably have five finger-shaped bruises later.

He tore down the hall and banged my bedroom door open so hard that it ricocheted off the wall and slammed shut behind him. Tripping over his own feet two steps from the bed, he ended his mad dash by hurling us both down on the mattress. Before my back was done bouncing on the comforter, his lips and hands found my breasts. He sucked a nipple into his mouth and drew on it hard.

"Oh my _God_." Electricity shot from the point where his mouth moved on me and scorched straight to the juncture of my thighs. Suddenly, I was as impatient as he. I grabbed the shoulders of his shirt and yanked. "Off. Now."

He pulled away just long enough to allow me to drag the shirt over his head. As soon as it was gone, he crushed his body back down on me, sealing his searing, slick skin along the length of my naked form. His lips recaptured mine.

I could identify the specific spot on my hands that most ached to touch him. Right there, where my fingers met the pads of my palms. His back was damp with sweat, not from exertion but because his desire, like mine, was burning him alive. I smoothed my hands down his muscled back. My fingers dove beneath the waistband of his jeans, and I molded my palms around the curves of his perfect ass. The silky heat of his skin was the most delicious thing I'd ever felt. I wanted more.

My bold exploration of a part of his body I'd never touched before drove him wild. He was panting again, grinding the bulge in his jeans against the hottest, wettest point on my body. He shifted his weight to the side and began fumbling to open his zipper. He shoved his jeans and boxers down just far enough for his erection to spring free, and rolled back between my thighs.

"I am sorry, ñi piuque," he gasped. "I cannot wait." His head dropped to my shoulder, his breath hot and ragged against my neck.

Idiot vamp-boy. What was he apologizing for? I'd had a month of anticipation. Every kiss, every touch, every heated look had been an erotic caress building up to this consummation. I could live without more foreplay, at least this first time. But I wouldn't last another second without him inside me.

Gripping his perfectly sculpted rear, I urged him forward. Even though I was expecting it, craving it, I still cried out when he pushed into me with a single powerful stroke. He drove in deep and held himself there. I could feel every inch of him pulsing thick and hard inside me.

Six years of celibacy had tightened my body, and he was stretching me to overflowing. I'd known he was big; I'd seen his naked erection before. But I hadn't expected his size would have me teetering on the razor's edge between pleasure and pain. Instinctively, I drew my knees higher, bringing my feet all the way to his hips, trying to find the friction and angle that would topple me back toward bliss.

A strangled groan escaped his lips. "Don't move. Don't move." He panted against my throat. "If you move now, I will be done."

I squirmed, rotating my hips around the point where his body speared into mine. I _needed_ him to move, needed him to stoke the fire that was slowly burning my mind to ash. "Let go, baby," I encouraged, breathing in his ear. "Just let go."

The mating drive of the imprinting bond was lashing him now, flogging at the frayed remnants of his self-control, yet still he held back. His hands clamped painfully on my hips, forcing me into stillness. He was practically sobbing now, his voice shaking so badly I had trouble comprehending his words. "Not without you."

I understood what he wanted. God knew I wanted it, too, but I'd rarely climaxed from penetration. And it sure wasn't going to happen if all he did was lay there. How the hell could this man fuck and frustrate me at the same time?

I balled my hands into fists and gouged my knuckles into his shoulder blades to keep myself from clawing his back. I ground my heels into his ass cheeks to drive him even deeper. Tension was thrumming through his body; I could feel the vibration of it where his flesh pressed above me and within me. _Damn him for holding back, even now. Especially now!_

"Oh my God, Nahuel, if you want me to come, you have to move…_unh!_" Mid-rant, my demand dissolved into a grunt of delight as he withdrew and slammed back into me. And held again.

I whimpered in frustration and finally sank my nails into his back. This time I begged. "Please, baby. _Please!_"

A massive tremor rippled through his muscles, and I felt the last shards of his control shiver away.

He began to move in a frantic, choppy rhythm, working himself into my body in hard staccato thrusts, as if he craved the friction but couldn't bear the separation of withdrawing for more than a fraction of a second. His arms slipped beneath my back. Gripping my shoulders from behind, he used the leverage to force my body down harder, keeping counterpoint with the upward pounding of his hips.

His mouth never left my skin, licking and sucking along my collar bone, up the length of my throat, across my jaw. I wove my fingers into his short, silky hair, urging his mouth toward mine. His every exhalation poured his cinnamon and spice breath into my lungs.

Our rutting soon flushed out my mounting pleasure, and my body raced toward it like a powerful predator pursuing the most succulent prey. I sprinted after it eagerly, reveling in the thrill of the chase. The supple flex of muscle. The sensual slide of skin on skin. The heady scent and sonorous breath of my mate as he raced beside me. I closed in on my quarry, gleaming canines bared, knowing this would be quick and good, so delicious.

But in the seconds before my jaws snapped shut, my prey turned on me, fearsome and ruthless. And I realized that I'd _never_ been in control of this hunt. I'd been lured toward this moment, and the beast that was about to spring on me wasn't simple sexual gratification.

This was _creation_, and it far surpassed the mere mingling of DNA. This was the conception of a new whole, drawn together from the broken parts of two fragmented souls. And the Leah who'd chased this kill, who would have turned tail and fled if she'd ever recognized the truth of what she pursued, would not survive this moment of conception.

This was transformation—complete, primal and eternal.

And with that realization, the pleasure pounced. Ran me to ground, sank its fangs deep into my quivering flesh, and pierced straight to my soul. Shook me into ecstatic oblivion. When the jaws of the beast finally relaxed, it left me satisfied and replete and not the same woman I'd been before.

When my senses returned, I found his eyes fixated on my face. He'd been holding back to ensure my pleasure, but now the fading inner tremors of my orgasm were massaging his straining flesh. His pace became impossibly faster, his thrusts forcing our melded bodies higher on the bed. His back arched, his arms locked straight, and with a roar, he poured himself into me.

I'd been wrong that nothing was sexier or more beautiful than an angry Nahuel. In the moment of his release, his face was simply perfection.

He collapsed on top of me, still lodged within me, his head nestled on my breasts. We lay like that, peaceful and entwined, long enough for our breathing and heart rates to slow, matching their pace in perfect rhythm with each other. He had to be as satisfied and exhausted as I was, but even so, his magical hands simply could not be still. His fingers stroked gently up and down my arm, traced my collar bone, caressed the dip between my breasts until I caught his hand and brought it to my mouth. I kissed his fingers one by one, and then held his hand there at my lips. My other hand stroked his damp hair.

He sighed happily. "Thank you, ñi piuque," he murmured.

Curiosity wormed its way through my contentment. "What does that mean?" I asked. When he didn't answer, I tugged sharply on his hair, thinking he might be falling asleep.

He grunted. "Hmmmmm?" It was the least eloquent thing I'd ever heard him say. I found it totally adorable.

"That name you always call me. What does it mean?"

He lifted his head to look at me, and my pulse quickened. These were not the eyes of a man who was tired or satisfied. His expression clearly said he wasn't even close to finished with me yet. My mind finally registered the fact that neither his climax nor our minutes of rest had killed his erection. As if in silent confirmation of my thoughts, he flexed his hips, pushing that delicious hardness deeper.

_Note to self. Recovery time for vamp-boy: zero minutes. Thank you God!_

He smirked at my gasp, and his low voice was a sensual purr. "I did tell you that we would not leave this bed today, did I not?"

My body responded to his sultry teasing with a ferocity that shook me. Instantly, I was ready, eager to lose myself again in mindless pleasure. So I was slightly out of step when the passion in his teak eyes softened to tenderness.

"My heart," he whispered, gently caressing my sweat-matted hair away from my face.

I uncrossed my eyes and blinked at him in confusion. His smile was loving and patient.

"My heart," he repeated. "It means 'my heart.' "

As he lowered his lips to mine and began moving within me, I realized that I'd been wrong yet again.

He hadn't made his first declaration of love today in a fit of anger.

He'd been saying it all along.

* * *

><p><strong><em>End Note: <em>**_So was it as good for you as it was for Leah? And just so you all know how committed I am to this story and all my readers, I wrote this chapter while my hubby (who, after 16 years together, can still get me hot and bothered with a look) was away on a week-long trip. That's right. I wrote a sex scene when my steady supply of nookie was on the other side of the world. How's that for dedication?_

_RL is going to encroach on my writing time next week, so there will probably be a bit of a longer lag between this chapter and the next. As always, thanks for reading and reviewing._


	17. Everything is You

**_A/N:_**_ Thanks to everyone for the wonderful response to the last chapter. I'm so happy everyone is enjoying this story! With a lot of the UST resolved in the last chapter, you may be wondering what's left to talk about. Well stick with me, because life (not to mention Joham) isn't done with Leah and Nahuel yet!_

_MunkeeRajah and Evelyn worked their usual magic on this chapter. Without them, I dwell in darkness. (If you get that reference, I will be very impressed). _

_Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.  
><em>

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><p>Chapter 17 – Everything is You<p>

**Leah POV**

"When did you know?"

I was sprawled on my stomach on top of the rumpled bed sheets, poised on the edge of blissful unconsciousness. Every muscle and tendon in my body was thoroughly relaxed, and my brain was nearing total shut-down mode. Nahuel's question, whispered hotly against the skin where my neck met my shoulder blades, threatened to reawaken my brain and body.

_Pretend you're already asleep. Maybe he'll get the hint and take a nap, too._

Of course, he didn't. In the twelve hours we'd spent in my bed, I'd learned my imprint had no qualms about waking me up when he wanted me, whether it was for more planet-shifting sex or just to talk. I wasn't surprised that Nahuel was an enthusiastic lover; we'd both been resisting our urges for a month, and we definitely had a sexual backlog to work through. But the fact that he was a _talker_, well, that was a bit of a shock.

He wanted to know every thought I'd ever had, and peppered me with near-constant questions, even in the most passionate of moments. I'd found it sweet and flattering at first. But now, after the accumulation of three days of emotional exhaustion and poor sleep, and more recent hours of athletic love-making, his inquisitiveness was nothing but a road block on my trip to la-la land.

When I didn't answer him, Nahuel began kissing and licking down the ridge of my spine. If I remained silent—a near impossibility considering what those kisses were doing to my nether regions—he'd just continue. He'd soon reach a location on my body that would make it impossible for me to keep feigning sleep. That would lead to more sex but still wouldn't halt his questions. It only meant I'd be answering them while he was inside me and my brain-to-mouth filter was completely off.

I sighed and rolled over, forcing my bleary eyes to focus on his face hovering only inches from mine. His eyes were luminous, adoring and damnably alert, as he watched me expectantly. A warm wave of emotion washed through me. How could I _not_ give him whatever he wanted when he looked at me like that?

"When did I know what?"

"When did you know you had imprinted on me?"

Seriously? Wasn't it the chick who was supposed to ask the guy when he first realized he was interested in her? Since declaring his love at great volume in my kitchen this morning, Nahuel had been dropping surprise after surprise on me. Right up there with the talker thing was the fact that he was also a hopeless romantic. Who'd have guessed a blood-thirsty half-vamp would be so in touch with his feminine side?

My answer would probably annoy him, but after the progress we'd made today, there was no way I was going to be less than honest with him.

"Right away."

Surprise rounded his clear, warm eyes. "Do you mean when Jacob brought me here?"

I sighed again and pushed myself up to a seated position, resting my back against the headboard. Obviously, this was going to lead to a more intense discussion—and less sleep—than I'd planned.

"No," I said, shaking my head. I had to tell him the truth, but I didn't want to see the look in his eyes as I did it. I hiked the sheet up under my armpits and fixed my gaze on my toes peeking out from the bottom of it. "When I first saw you in the Cullens' living room."

I held my breath. He must realize that I'd just admitted to lying by omission since the day he arrived in Forks. I waited for his anger, but it didn't materialize. Instead, he reached for my hand, turned it palm-up in his and began a careful study of each finger.

"I was very … confused, then," he said, his tone hesitant as if he were revealing something shameful. "I could barely focus my thoughts. The grief of Huilen's loss and fear of my sire were overwhelming. Then you entered like an avenging warrior and called me a coward. I had never seen anyone or anything so beautiful, but you were very angry with me. It made me angry as well."

Remorse slapped me painfully. "I'm sorry," I said softly, not for the first time, but possibly the first time I'd really meant it.

His golden brown eyes flashed to mine, and a forgiving smile curled his perfect lips. "Do not be. Anger was exactly what I needed at that moment. It gave me something to focus on. You gave me an outlet for the emotions I could not control."

He sat up beside me, moving closer until his lips were brushing against my cheek. "Shall I tell you when I knew I wanted you?"

I laughed. "I think that's pretty obvious. It was that night on the beach."

"No …" He hesitated and his smile broadened. "That is when I decided to stop fighting my desire for you. I began to want you my first night in this house, when you helped me control my panic."

He hooked an index finger in the bed sheet just below my collar bone and began to gently tug it down. As the sheet rode lower on my chest, he slipped his hand beneath it and palmed my breast. "Merely touching your hand made me so hard and hungry I could not think."

My breath started to wobble in my throat. I felt his lips curve against my cheek as he felt my reaction and heard my heart rate increase.

Mother Nature, that manipulative bitch, had designed his body for the sole purpose of exciting mine. In the past twelve hours, Nahuel had spent more time inside me than separated from me, and still it wasn't enough—for either of us. He was ready again, and so was I. But perversely, my mind was lingering on the train of our conversation, unwilling to depart the station so quickly when such interesting information was coming over the loud speaker.

"If you wanted me, why were you so damned stand-offish?" I wheezed, struggling to keep my thoughts on track as his index finger began to circle and worry my nipple. "It was infuriating."

"I did not _want_ to want you," he said, as if that were the most reasonable explanation in the world.

Actually, I understood. I hadn't wanted to want him, either. I hadn't wanted any imprint in my life, let alone a half-vampire who was suffering from panic attacks and post-traumatic stress. Yet here we were, both of us better and whole for having been brought together by that damned biological imperative.

His introspection and manual explorations had pretty much quashed my desire for sleep. But not for him. And not for more insight into his soul. Since he was still calm after my revelation of just how long I'd been keeping the truth from him, I decided to push my luck a little.

As his lips joined his hands in exploring my torso, I squeaked out the question that had been burning in my head and heart. He'd never really answered me when I let it slip out in the kitchen this morning.

"Why did you stay away for three days? You told me you would never leave me," I didn't want it to sound like an accusation, and I hated the pathetic quaver in my voice. "I thought that was the best moment of my life. But then, after the fight … well, I came home and waited for you, but you never came."

His hands stilled on my breast, and his mouth paused on my collar bone. _Damn. So much for his sexual multi-tasking skills._

_Shut up, witch. This is important. _

His hand left my breast and his warm, muscled arm wrapped around my waist to pull me closer. He pressed his lips against my throat, nuzzling his face into the curve of my shoulder. I knew him well enough by now to realize his embrace wasn't sexual. He was hiding from me. I ran the fingers of both hands through his thick, silky hair, gently massaging his scalp with my nails.

"Can't you tell me?"

"I was afraid," he muttered, his words a barely audible caress against my skin.

The pre-Nahuel Leah—bitchy, self-wounding Leah—wouldn't have had the patience to let him say what he needed to in his own time. But I was the new, improved Leah, and I finally cared about someone else's pain more than my own. So I continued to stroke his hair and waited for him to go on.

He breathed against my skin for a few moments, calming himself with my scent, and then he released me, rolling to sit with his back pressed against the headboard. He propped his forearm over his eyes. "I had suspected for a while that there was something more to our mutual attraction than mere lust," he said.

_Still hiding from me, but at least still talking. Progress._ I shifted to my side so that I could curl against him, my fingers brushing lightly, soothingly over the fine dusting of hair on his abdomen.

"Then, what happened in the clearing … Seth imprinting on my sister …" His words trailed off. Clearly, he was struggling to verbalize some very complex emotions. My heart sang for his simple effort. The shell of fear and despair that had trapped him for so long wasn't entirely gone yet, but we were chipping away at it.

My hand scooted up his chest to lightly grasp his wrist where it crossed above his face. I didn't try to move his arm. Just left my hand there, silently telling him it was okay to reveal more when he was ready. After a few more moments of silence, he lowered his arm, carrying my hand with his to rest on his chest, where he gripped it tightly. Finally, he met my eyes.

"I thought perhaps that was what had happened to us, but I was unsure," he said, cautiously. "If it were true, I reasoned, you would have told me. I also very much _wanted_ to believe you had imprinted on me, because if you had not, then it would mean you might do so with someone else."

Haunted and hungry, his teak eyes scanned my face. "I did not think I could be as strong in that situation as you were when Sam imprinted on Emily."

Guilt swamped me. Jake had been right those weeks ago when he'd chastised me in my father's woodshed. By withholding the truth from Nahuel, I'd made an already difficult situation even worse for him. It was a miracle he _hadn't_ lost his mind. A miracle that he'd stayed at all.

"And then I thought, if you _had_ imprinted on me, was that the only reason that you wanted me? I was afraid," he repeated, his soulful eyes begging me to understand. "My fear paralyzed me, and I could not go to you."

"What changed?"

"Seth let the truth slip …" He trailed off when he saw the ire on my face. "Do not be angry with him, Leah. He meant us no harm. When I realized that Jacob had also kept the truth from me, I became infuriated. He was angry with me, as well, for leaving you alone for so long. We fought."

"What?" I gasped, horrified at Jake poking his nose in, let alone raising a hand to my imprint. I could just imagine the confrontation between a pissed-off Nahuel and an angry, in control, Jacob.

Nahuel smiled wryly at my expression. "Oh, it was not much of a fight, and it was over very quickly. Jacob bested me easily. He forced me to calm myself and begin behaving reasonably. He has become a very good friend."

He rolled to his side and slid his warm arms around me, pulling me closer to the length of his body. He laid his head against my chest, and I thought he might be listening to my heartbeat.

"In the end, I decided nothing else mattered—not my anger at you and Jacob, not my fear that you wanted me only because of the imprinting." The self-doubt of moments before was gone from his voice. His words were low and peaceful. "I only care that I love you."

He lifted his head then. His teak eyes, calm and suffused with a quiet love, captured me like a fly in amber. Patience and acceptance bathed the atmosphere in our private little bubble of bliss. He waited.

If I'd still been the Leah I was this morning, the words he so obviously desired from me now would have remained trapped behind a wall of old hurts. But that Leah had died this morning in the flames of our passion, and now the words came to me easily. I would never be the gal who made pretty speeches, but I could tell him what was in my heart, simply and sincerely.

"I love you too, you know," I whispered softly, stroking my fingers through his hair. I loved the silky feeling of those strands slipping between my fingers. I loved how my simple caress and heart-felt admission made the embers in his eyes glow with joy.

"My heart," he breathed, pressing a tender kiss to the corner of my mouth. I turned my head just enough to capture his lips fully and deepen the kiss. He opened for me readily, his delectable tongue darting out eagerly to meet mine. I shivered in anticipation as his clever hands found my breasts again. His fingers gently stroked and massaged, his thumbs circling trails of heat around my nipples.

I made a small sound of protest when he pulled away. With a quick twist of his wrist, he flicked the sheet entirely away from my naked body. He pried my knees apart and climbed between them. "You are beautiful, Leah. I cannot get enough of you."

Hooking his hands behind my knees, he gently towed me back down into a prone position on the bed. Poised above me on his hands and knees, he began pressing soft, wet kisses over my chest and breasts. Every stroke of his tongue, each brush of his heated skin on mine fueled my desire for him. His lips worked their way lower on my abdomen.

There was no mistaking where he was headed, and I was definitely in favor of the idea. But in all fairness, I had to let him know that my body needed a break from some of our more strenuous activities.

"Nahuel, I'm kind of sore," I said bluntly as he nuzzled between my thighs.

He raised his golden eyes but didn't surrender his position. "That is alright, ñi piuque," he said, a hint of a smirk playing around his perfect lips. "I do not need to be inside you to love you." He lowered his lips to my already tingling flesh.

I didn't know whether to groan that I wasn't getting to sleep any time soon, gasp at the sensations he was creating with his diabolical mouth, or laugh at his audacity. Maybe I should do all three at once. I might be a new Leah, but my inner bitch was still with me, and my indecision prodded her to pipe up again.

_Or maybe you should just shut the fuck up and enjoy yourself._

_Finally, you say something that makes sense!_

SSW/SSW/SSW

Reality doesn't always intrude. Sometimes it just hangs back, waiting for you to remember it. When you finally go looking for it, blinking like a businessman who's just run into his boss coming out of the local girlie bar, reality will not easily forgive you for standing it up. It's going to turn into a hormonal, outraged teenage girl. It is going to make you pay.

After spending an entire day and night wallowing in the hedonistic heaven of Nahuel's arms, my comeuppance kicked me in the teeth when I walked into the kitchen the next morning. Reality was caked on the kitchen floor in the form of petrified bacon, moldy scrambled eggs and congealed coffee, all with nice, sharp shards of crockery mixed in for good measure. I sighed and set to work.

Nahuel was still sleeping, and I briefly toyed with the idea of rousting him out of bed to help me. I quickly set the thought aside. He definitely knew how to use a scrub brush and sponge, thanks to Mom's lessons in the fine art of dishwashing, but this probably wasn't a good time to get him to practice his domestic skills. I was pretty sure crawling around on the floor with my imprint would lead to rolling around on the floor with him. We needed to get back to reality.

I'd finished cleaning up the broken glass, eggs and bacon, and was scrubbing at the dried-on coffee when I heard the rumble of my mother's car in the driveway. I sat back on my haunches and waited for her, knowing she'd come in the kitchen door.

She'd been staying with Charlie a lot lately. I knew she was trying to help him deal with his radically altered reality. But I was also pretty sure she was avoiding Nahuel—and by default, me.

My heart lodged in my throat at the sound of her key in the door. What would I say to her now that everything had changed between my imprint and me?

The door swung open. Mom stood in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob, the other balancing an overstuffed grocery bag on her hip. Her eyes widened at the sight of me on the floor, scrub brush in hand, with the still-overturned table behind me.

"What happened here?" Compared to the last time she'd walked into a scene in this room, this must have looked pretty tame, so her voice was only mildly concerned. She crossed the kitchen and deposited her bag on the counter by the sink.

I cleared my throat. "Nahuel and I, um, argued." It felt odd to be speaking to anyone other than him. I'd cut myself off from everyone else for … how long was it now? _Four days._ It had been four days since I'd spoken with Jake, Seth or Mom. I was so far under the spell of the imprinting that I hadn't even thought to check my cell phone, I realized guiltily. Crap!

As if she could read my thoughts, my mother's eyes sparked with annoyance. "No one has heard from you in four days, Leah," she chastised. "Haven't you checked your phone? Jake, Seth and I have been leaving you messages for days. Jake said to just give you some time, but this morning I decided enough was enough."

She began unloading her grocery bag onto the counter. "Since you weren't answering your phone, I decided to just come home. I want to have a family meeting."

I went back to my slow scrubbing. If she wanted to act like she walked into a trashed kitchen every day, well, I could play that game. "What about?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even—and quiet. I wasn't ready for her to know Nahuel was sleeping in my bed, and I didn't want to wake him.

She shot me a disbelieving look. "I think we have a lot to talk about, don't you?"

I shrugged one shoulder, a gesture I hadn't used on her since high school. "I guess." She studied me silently for another moment.

"I met Anjali," she finally said.

I tensed. Of course, Seth had told Mom immediately about his imprint. He was probably on cloud nine and couldn't imagine why she wouldn't be just as happy for him. His easy acceptance of his imprinting made it look even worse that I had hidden mine.

When she didn't say anything else, I finally looked up from my work. "Yeah? How did that go?"

Her smile was strained. "Well, I can see she adores Seth, so I'm grateful for that. But she's very … _vampire-like_."

Maybe it was just because she and her cohorts had tried to kill me, but I personally found Seth's imprint creepy as hell. So I could easily picture the awkwardness of a meeting between her and my mother.

Mom was used to the Cullens and Nahuel, all of whom made great efforts to act as human as possible. They were trying to fit in. But Anjali had been raised by a traditional, human-murdering vampire. She wouldn't have any of the mannerisms that the Cullens cultivated to appear more human. And Nahuel had given up preying on humans six years before I imprinted on him. I was willing to bet Anjali's conversion to vegetarianism did _not_ pre-date Seth imprinting on her.

"Let's just say meeting her has made me realize I should appreciate Nahuel more," my mother said.

I hadn't risen from my spot on the floor, and now I was glad. If I'd been standing when she said that, I would have fallen over in shock. As it was, my internal struggle over just what to say to her had my knees glued to the linoleum. She didn't seem to register my paralysis. Her eyes came to rest on the toppled table, as if she'd just noticed it.

"So you argued? With Nahuel?"

I nodded.

Her breath huffed out in an exasperated sigh. "What is it with you two and this table?" She grasped an end of it and skewered me with an impatient glare. "Well, help me set it back up."

I climbed to my feet and helped her right the table, sliding it back into place beneath the ugly globe light fixture that I'd always loathed for its disturbing resemblance to a disco ball. When we were done, she turned back to her groceries.

"So Nahuel is here?" She was trying to be casual and failing miserably. "Do you want to tell me what you two argued about?"

She opened the refrigerator and crammed something into it without even looking at me. Something else fell out on the floor. She snatched it up and leaned waist-deep into the fridge, trying to jam the escapee back into place. Neither one of us was really paying attention to what she was doing.

"He knows."

She froze, then slowly straightened, peeping at me from around the refrigerator door. I'd just assumed Seth would have told her the truth was out. Apparently, the pesky meddler had kept his mouth shut this time. Her eyebrows rose in direct correlation to the pitch of her voice. "And?"

It was stupid and girly, but emotion clogged my throat. Tears I absolutely _refused_ to shed made my mother's shocked face shimmer before me. I brought my clasped hands to my lips, as if that would help me control the tremble in my voice.

"He loves me," I choked out.

The tension and self-doubt of the past month had begun leaking away the moment Nahuel had declared his love yesterday. My words flushed the last of those crippling feelings out in a single raging torrent. And when sheer joy soared across my mother's beautiful features, I totally lost it.

Suddenly I was in her arms, sobbing irrationally. She rocked me like a small child, reaching up to stroke my hair, laughing happily.

"Of course he does, sweetheart. How could he not?"

"My sentiments exactly." As soft as a caress, Nahuel's deep voice drifted gently over my shoulder.

Embarrassed that he'd caught me crying like a baby in my mother's arms, I tried to pull away from her, hastily scrubbing at my tear-streaked face. She allowed me to shift enough to look at my imprint, but didn't release me.

Nahuel stood just inside the kitchen, shirtless and barefoot. His short hair was wildly tousled, and every line of his long, lean form was loose and relaxed. He looked exactly like what he was: a man who'd spent the past day and a half in bed satisfying his woman thoroughly and repeatedly.

My heart began to hammer ridiculously at the sight of him, and heat climbed my cheeks. My mother was a sharp woman. She knew exactly what our argument had led to.

"Hello, Sue," he greeted her, his voice cautious and respectful. He hadn't seen her since the day of Charlie's attack, when she'd brushed off his apology in our driveway.

"Hello, Nahuel," she replied. My heart leapt, because the old warmth and the undertones of their early friendship were back in her voice. She gave my arms a gentle squeeze and let me go.

She took a tentative step toward Nahuel and hesitated for just a moment. Then she opened her arms to him. He didn't rush into them, instead stepping forward slowly to carefully wrap her in his embrace. He hugged her gingerly, as if he feared he might break her. Or that she would reject him again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to her, meeting my eyes over her head. His gaze was unsure, but hopeful.

She pulled back to look at him and laid her right palm gently on his cheek.

"No, I'm the one who needs to apologize," she said firmly, holding his wary gaze. "I judged you unfairly for something you couldn't help, something that was not your fault. I was wrong. I hope you'll accept my apology and give me the chance to earn back your friendship."

His golden eyes widened in surprise, and his glorious smile chased the caution from his face.

"Your apology is unnecessary, but gladly accepted." He pulled her back into a firm hug, and this time there was no awkwardness in it. She wrapped her arms around him and rubbed his back affectionately. She'd always wanted to love him, I realized. Not only for my sake, but for his own, as well.

When Mom finally released him, Nahuel stepped to my side and loosely looped his arm around my waist. That familiar electric charge radiated through my body from our point of contact. Really, this was getting ridiculous.

"Mom's met Anjali," I told him, trying to distract myself from the temptation of dragging him back down the hallway to my bedroom.

Mom's smile was tight. "Yes, I have," she said. "And I'm calling a Clearwater family meeting here. Since Anjali is Seth's imprint, the elders have cleared her to come on the rez."

She held Nahuel's gaze. "I expect you to attend," she said sternly. Before he could respond, she continued. "Charlie will be here, too."

Nahuel's arm tightened around me. I knew exactly how he felt. "Mom, is that a good idea?" I asked. Neither Nahuel nor I had seen Charlie since the day of the attack.

"It's necessary," she replied, her tone clearly stating she wouldn't listen to any debate on the matter. "This family has gone through a lot of changes lately. We need to regroup." She hesitated for a moment before continuing.

"Plus, we have something important to tell you and Seth. Everyone will be here around dinner time."

Great. When reality decided to pile-drive me, I could always count on my mother to be right there in the ring with it, just waiting for the tag to take over my ass-booting. I was pretty sure having two half-vampires, my love-sop brother and the trigger-happy human police chief of Forks all in the same room was courting disaster.

But what really had my stomach in knots was Mom's announcement that she and Charlie had something to tell us. I had a pretty good idea of what that something was, and I didn't like the idea one bit.

I was _so_ not ready to have Charlie Swan as a stepdad.

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><p><strong><em>End note: <em>**__BellaEdwardlover1991 was my 200th reviewer and to thank her I offered to write an extra based on her suggestion. She had some awesome ideas and "Fragments: A Season of the She Wolf Extra" is currently in the works. If you haven't already put me on author alert, you might want to do that so you don't miss it when it posts.__


	18. Strangers When We Meet

**_A/N: _**_My apologies for the unusually long lag between updates. RL is a domineering mistress sometimes!_

_Thanks to MunkeeRajah and Evelyn-Shaye for betaing this chapter at warp speed. If you haven't checked out Evelyn's story "A Different Kind of Love," take a look. It's a lovely Jake/Renesmee story that really taps into what's so appealing about the characters._

_And on a technical note, if you reviewed the outtake previously posted here as Chapter 18, you won't be able to leave a review for this chapter. The system will read that as an attempt to leave double reviews and won't allow it. This is entirely my fault, since I originally posted the outtake in place of chapter 18, and when it came time to post the real 18 my anal retentiveness just wouldn't let me live with the messed up order. So in trying to "fix" the order, I messed up the reviews. You can always just send me a PM to comment - and to tell me what a boob I am for screwing this up!_

_Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. Leah's snarkiness, however, is all mine!  
><em>

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><p>Chapter 18 – Strangers When We Meet<p>

**Leah POV**

I'd never bought into that crap about karma balancing the universe.

It always seemed to me that the distribution of happy times versus shitty ones pretty much played out on its own, without any real rhyme or reason. But after Nahuel crashed into my life and woke me up from six years of self-imposed stagnation, I'd started to think that maybe there really was a cosmic scale-watcher keeping track of things.

Nahuel loved me, my mother had reconciled with him, Joham hadn't yet shown his face in Forks, and I no longer felt like I was walking around with a heart-sized hole in my chest. True, my life still wasn't all rainbow-farting unicorn happy, but the "good side" of my scale was definitely heaped high and riding low right now. With my life that far out of balance, I was worried that fate would soon step in to even things up.

From Joham's next move to the verbal ass-kicking I was pretty sure I would get when I finally talked to Jake again, there was a big, smelly wad of bullshit waiting to splat down on the "bad side" of my life's scale. Maybe if I took the initiative and started dealing with some immediate impending unpleasantness, it wouldn't be quite so bad when the whole mess finally did hit.

So I snuck out behind the woodshed while Mom and Nahuel were discussing the dinner menu for the coming Clearwater family summit. It was hilarious—and a huge turn-on—that my imprint was turning out to be so domestic. While he was happily distracted, I decided it was a good time to grab some privacy and call Jake. I didn't need anyone listening in on my end of the dressing down I was pretty sure my Alpha was going to give me.

He had every right to be pissed at me. Jake had been my dependable, supportive wingman through my emotional roller coaster ride over the past month—not to mention the past six years. He deserved better than to have me flake out and disappear on him for four straight days. Not to mention the fact that as his beta, making myself unavailable to him and the pack was stupid and irresponsible.

I leaned against the back of the shed and dialed his number. He picked up on the second ring.

"Leah."

That was it. Just my name. In a tone that clearly said he wasn't going to give me a free pass.

"Yeah. Uh, hi, Jake. Sorry I've been out of touch." I paused, waiting for him to jump in.

Silence. _Shit. _

"I guess I kind of wigged out there for a while. Uh, for a few days. The whole Seth-Anjali thing sorta freaked me out and .…" My blather tapered off again.

Still no response. Obviously, Jake thought I could do better. I sighed.

"Look, I know I've been a jerk," I tried again, doing my best to sound truly contrite. "I haven't handled things well for the past few days. Well, for the past month, really. I'm sorry."

I took a breath, giving him another opportunity to speak. He remained silent. Now he was starting to irritate me, and I couldn't keep my annoyance out of my voice.

"Alright, you were right and I was wrong! I should have told him. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? Jesus, Jake, don't make this easy for me or anything—"

"Leah?" I'd been working up a good head of steam, but the gentle and_ caring_ tone of his quiet voice locked my wheels.

"What?" I snapped back, not quite ready to give up my ire.

"Are you alright?"

He choked me up, damn his strong-but-sensitive ass. Nobody did the biceps of steel and heart of gold routine better than Jake. His voice was so meltingly sweet, so kind, that I could envision the revolting compassion I was sure filled his dark eyes.

I was getting really sick of all this girly emotion that had been welling up in me for the past few days. Why couldn't I go back to being the old cast-iron-bitch Leah and just keep the happy-in-love and having-great-sex parts of the new Leah? Was that too much to ask?

I took a moment to collect my thoughts and get a grip on my vocal chords. "Yeah, Jake. I'm alright."

"Good. I'm glad." Relief suffused his voice. Then, in quick succession, worry skulked in: "Is _Nahuel_ okay, too?" The obvious concern in his tone made me chuckle.

"Oh yeah," I said, not even trying to hide my smugness. "I'd say he's _very_ okay right now!"

That broke his tension and Jake hooted with laughter. I remembered what Nahuel had said about Jake being a good friend, and realized my Alpha would probably say that the feeling was mutual.

"Did he tell you how he found out?" he asked.

Nahuel had said that Seth let the truth slip in a conversation with Jake, Carlisle, Edward and Jasper; Jake blamed himself for not preventing Seth's slip-up. As if anyone could control my kid brother's mouth when he started his verbal dribbling.

"Yeah, he did. Don't beat yourself up over it. I wasn't real happy when he told me you guys fought, but I guess everything turned out for the best."

Jake's relieved breath made the cellphone crackle in my ear. "Thanks. But I need to talk to you about the rest of that conversation with Carlisle."

Now a distinct undercurrent of discomfort crept into his voice. I wondered what was up, because Nahuel hadn't really explained what everyone had been discussing when he interrupted them. Honestly, I'd been much more interested in the end result of the conversation than what had actually been said.

"Did Nahuel tell you anything?" Jake sounded hopeful.

"He said the conversation didn't really apply to us." Which, now that I thought about it, didn't make sense. Why would Seth have been talking about Nahuel and me at all if the discussion wasn't pertinent to us?

Jake sighed, his frustration sparking loud and clear across the airwaves. "Damn. I was hoping he'd tell you. I mean, he _did_ say that he wouldn't," he babbled. Yeah, something was definitely up because Jacob _never_ babbled. "He said he didn't want to upset you with it, but I was really hoping he'd rethink that."

He paused for several moments and I could imagine him furrowing his heavy brow. Finally, he blew another exasperated breath. "Look, I'm just going to poke my nose in and say this, okay?"

"Okaaaay?"

"Leah, I think you and Nahuel should …" he paused, and if a voice could convey a blush, his would have been crimson. "… I think you should use …" His voice dropped to a stage whisper. "… _protection_."

I actually held the phone away from my ear and stared at it for ten seconds. Maybe if I blinked rapidly enough at my phone, I could prove to myself he hadn't really said what I thought he'd just said. My silence must have worried Jake, because I heard him call my name several times.

Finally, I returned the phone to my ear. "What?" I gagged out eloquently.

Now, _he_ was pissed. "You heard me! I'm not going to repeat myself."

"Okay, I did hear you. But why the hell are you bringing this up?"

Even though I'd all but admitted it to him not five minutes ago, I was still irked by Jake's assumption that Nahuel and I were having sex. And I was really cheesed that he would lecture me about _safe_ sex. I mean, he knew more about my situation that just about anyone else besides my mother.

"Carlisle's got a theory and it's one that makes a lot of sense," he said. "He thinks these hybrid-werewolf imprints are all part of the genetic imperative to keep passing on the transformation gene. He suggests that the mixture of vampire and shape-shifter DNA could mean our kids would be able to phase at will, without having to wait around for a full vampire to activate the gene."

Icy pain, crisp and sharp, settled into my stomach. My legs began to feel watery, and I slid down the wall of the shed until I was crouching with my back against it. Anger and agony were duking it out in my gut; I didn't know which would win, but either way, I was the loser.

"Goddammit, Jake," I growled, clutching the phone so tightly my hand shook. "Why the fuck do you keep bringing this up?"

Confusion roughened his normally smooth tenor. "What are you talking about? We've never discussed this before. I didn't think anything of it when it was just you and Nahuel and me and Ness, but now with a third hybrid-wolf pair …"

The ice in my gut was getting heavier by the second, weighing down the warm buoyancy that had lingered from my day and night of passion in Nahuel's arms. Jake was delving—A_gain!_—into the one topic guaranteed to unearth the last buried remnants of my bitterness. I didn't want to examine those fragments right now, didn't want to remember that for all the happiness Nahuel and I could give each other, there was one thing we _couldn't_ do.

"I _get_ it, asshole!" I was shouting now, loud enough that Nahuel's vampire-sharp hearing could probably hear me in the house. I didn't care. "You _know_ that this doesn't have anything to do with _me_."

Jake's breath rasped in my ear. He was trying to keep his cool. It was good one of us could.

"Leah, I keep telling you that you don't _know_ that for sure," he said with quiet intensity. "Better to be safe than sorry, right?"

I fired back without thinking.

"Who says I'd be sorry?"

I couldn't have taken a bet on which one of us was more astounded. I was pretty sure I actually felt the planet's revolution halt for a few seconds while our mental momentum caught up with the words that had just rocketed out of my big mouth. No surprise that Jake was the one who rediscovered his power of speech first.

"If that's what you want, then I'd be behind you a hundred percent, but I think this is something you should talk to Nahuel about before you take any more chances," he said. His quiet voice was calm and determined. "Don't you think he has a right to be in on this conversation?"

I dropped my forehead into my hand and shook my head, stupidly realizing as I did it that he couldn't see me. "Yeah, maybe," I sighed. "Look, can we not talk about this right now? I'd really like to enjoy being happy for a little while without having to think about this just yet."

Regret tinged his voice. "Christ, Leah, I'm sorry. You deserve to be happy, and I'm happy _for_ you, really I am. But there's more that you need to think about."

I balled my hand into a fist and drummed my knuckles against my forehead a few times, grimacing at his words. "What?" I grumbled, frustrated that he wouldn't let this go.

"If Carlisle is right, then this is exactly the kind of thing that's going to make Joham even more likely to attack us," he said. "And if he finds out about all of us, he's going to be especially interested in the really unique couple in the group."

I didn't need a carefully drawn picture to see the ugliness of the situation. Until now, Nahuel's batshit-crazy DNA donor had just two targets: Renesmee and my imprint. But with Seth and Anjali's imprinting, his potential targets had tripled.

And the two that would most interest him, the mated pair that would have him wetting himself with glee, would be Nahuel and me—the only known male vampire-human hybrid and the world's lone female werewolf. Of course, once he discovered that his only male progeny was wasting his potential, not to mention his very unique vamp-boy sperm, on a barren, bitchy she-wolf, that glee would probably turn into something a _lot_ less pleasant for all of us.

SSW/SSW/SSW

By the time our very strained and weird little dinner party was over later that evening, I was having a hard time deciding which father I liked least—Nahuel's or Bella's.

On the one hand, Joham was an evil, murdering, psychotic blood-sucker who had tried to torture the humanity out of the man who was the reason my heart continued to beat. On the other, Charlie Swan was the one sitting in my living room at the moment, so my dislike for him felt a lot more immediate.

Of course, I kept the mental comparison to myself because I was confident my imprint and my mother would be equally horrified by it. And in all fairness, Charlie _was_ trying like hell.

He'd showed up precisely on time, beating Seth and Anjali by nearly twenty minutes. He'd shaken Nahuel's hand and stoically apologized for the misunderstanding that had nearly ended with Nahuel's teeth in his throat. He hadn't said a word about my brother and Nahuel's sister fondling each other throughout the evening. He'd complimented Mom's outfit and hair, eliciting a rare blush from her. He'd even asked my imprint if he liked football or fishing and had taken it upon himself to try to educate Nahuel when my vamp-boy admitted a total ignorance of both subjects.

Considering how far his head had been up his ass for the past six years, Charlie was doing a remarkably good job tonight of dealing with his severely altered reality. Still, I knew the other shoe was going to drop when the dinner dishes were all cleaned and put away. So I lingered in the kitchen doorway while my weird new family spread into the living room to drink after-dinner coffee and listen to Charlie and Mom finally clue us in to their big secret.

They sat side by side on the couch, and Nahuel dropped into the wing-backed chair at a right angle to the sofa. Seth parked his rump in Dad's arm chair, propped his Sasquatch-sized feet on the coffee table and tugged Anjali down onto his lap. Nahuel studied their pose and then shifted his speculative gaze to me.

I frowned and gave him a subtle head shake. There was no way I was going to sit on his lap, too. My fanny on top of his crotch would mean he'd be sporting wood the whole time, and there was no way I'd be able to focus on anything Charlie and Mom had to say with Nahuel's hard-on gouging my ass. Plus, I didn't trust him to keep his hands to himself, even with other people in the room. I compromised by perching on the arm of his chair, facing my mother and her boyfriend.

Nahuel promptly sandbagged my good intentions, not to mention my focus. His arm slid behind my butt and one long finger slipped under the waistband of my jeans out of sight beneath the hem of my shirt. _Ballsy fucker._

Charlie took a swig of his coffee, then set his mug on the table near Seth's feet. He cleared his throat. Puffed air through his mustache. Stretched his neck with a popping sound, and glanced at my mother out of the corner of his eyes.

Oh, good God. Chief Charles Swan was squirming. I caught my mother's eyes and glared a mental message at her.

_Bail the poor bastard out, for Pete's sake._

Mom winked at me and then glanced around the room, sweeping Seth, Anjali and Nahuel with her warm smile.

"I'm really glad we're all here together," she began. "We've all been through a lot in the past month. Our family has changed. It's grown." She reached over to pat Nahuel's right hand, oblivious to the fact that his left was now fully into my pants and massaging as much of my cheek as his fingers could reach.

"I want you to know that each one of you is an important, cherished part of our family." This was clearly directed at Nahuel and Anjali, and her words earned her a radiant smile from my imprint. Anjali's expression remained attentive but reserved. I'd been right that she lacked Nahuel's human appeal, but hopefully she'd develop some the more time she spent with Seth. After all, my brother was the poster boy for warmth and sweetness.

Now Mom turned to Charlie and picked up his hand in both of hers. "I asked for this family meeting because Charlie and I have something very important to tell you." She paused and looked at Charlie expectantly.

_Here it comes. Wait for it. Wait for it._

Charlie cleared his throat again. I actually felt a pang of sympathy for the poor schmuck. He hadn't looked this scared when Nahuel's teeth were inches from his jugular. "I've asked Sue to marry me, and she's agreed."

It took Seth all of two seconds to leap to his feet, dump Anjali on the recliner and sweep Mom off the couch in a bear hug. He swung her around the living room, squealing like a cheerleader that had just laid the entire varsity team.

"I knew it! I knew it! That is so awesome!"

Anjali seemed a bit dazed to find herself sitting on the ripped vinyl of my dad's chair, but she still managed to muster a smile. Even with her limited experience of human interactions, she knew the appropriate response. "Congratulations Charlie, Sue."

Nahuel was grinning like a fool, too, and he rose to extend his hand to Charlie. "Yes, congratulations," he agreed. "I wish you every happiness."

By the time Charlie finished shaking Nahuel's hand, I'd remembered my manners and managed to give him a quick hug. I'd known for a while this was coming and had accepted that I needed to make my peace with it. Charlie wasn't a bad guy, and he made my mother happy. That's all that mattered, I reminded myself.

Seth finally put Mom down and it was my turn to hug her. "I'm happy for you, Mom," I whispered in her ear. "You deserve to be happy and loved."

She grabbed my face in her hands and kissed me full on the lips without hesitation or embarrassment. "So do you," she murmured emphatically. I grinned at her and stepped out of the way for Nahuel to sweep her into his arms.

Charlie was smiling broadly, relief radiating from every pore. I guess he'd been a bit worried about how their news would be received, and I couldn't blame him. In a rare moment of openness, he gazed at my mother with naked adoration shining in his brown eyes. For the first time in a long time, I felt an honest wave of affection for him.

Which he immediately killed by opening his mouth.

"You're all taking this so well, I guess we might as well tell you the rest of our news," he blurted out. "I'm going to take early retirement. Sue and I are leaving Forks. When Bella, Edward and Nessie leave with the Cullens, we're going to move with them."

His words imploded every molecule of good humor in the room.

Seth, Nahuel, Anjali, even Mom, all gaped at Charlie for a few seconds. Then every one of them looked at me, waiting for the tremors of anger shaking my body to blast into a full-blown eruption of rage.

I wanted to cut loose. I really did. Because even though I totally respected my mother's right to have her own life and make her own choices, I couldn't really believe this was what she wanted. I just _knew_ that the impetus behind this decision was nothing more than Charlie's inability to let the fuck go of Bella.

And it was time for him to let go. More than time. I wanted to scream at him. Wanted to tell him that he shouldn't make my mother leave the home she'd lived in her entire adult life, where she'd raised her children, just so he could go chasing his immortal daughter around the world. I wanted to demand my mother tell me how she could agree to something so stupid and outrageous. How she could walk away from the life she had here. How she could be willing to leave her own daughter behind just so Charlie could stay with his.

And I wanted to choke the life out of _both_ of them for making me feel like my options were narrowing even further. I hadn't yet decided for _myself_ if I was going to go with Jake and the Cullens when they left Forks. Where did Mom and Charlie get off making that decision before I did?

But not one word of that would do me or anyone else any good. Not one word of it would do anything but hurt my mother, anger Charlie and possibly make Seth, and even Nahuel, pissed at me.

So instead of saying anything, I turned on my heel, marched down the hall to my room and quietly closed the door behind me.

SSW/SSW/SSW

Hours later, I woke in my moonlit room to the faint but distinct sounds of panting and moaning. I blinked blearily at the digital clock on my nightstand. Half past one.

After making my silent, overly dramatic exit from the horribly gone wrong Clearwater family meeting, I'd stayed in my room for the rest of the night. Yes, I knew I was behaving like a toddler throwing a tantrum, but I figured that was better than starting a fight that would resolve nothing and only leave me looking like an asshole.

No one had dared to come knocking on my door, not even Nahuel. I'd heard Charlie and Mom leave for his place hours ago, and I had fallen asleep to the muted tones of Nahuel, Seth and Anjali talking in the living room.

Now, Seth and Anjali were making entirely different kinds of noises in his room. Guess they'd decided to stay the night rather than make the trek back to the Cullen mansion. I lay quietly for a moment, wishing I could go back to sleep, but knowing it wasn't likely with the porn soundtrack playing across the hall.

I sighed and sat up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and touching my toes to the cold wood floor. Without thinking, I reached behind me on the bed, but Nahuel's side was empty and the sheets were cool to the touch. Just as my heart rate started to ramp up with worry, I caught his spicy, sweet scent, and his warm, rich voice drifted softly across the room.

"I am here."

In the watery moonlight that trailed in the window, I could see that he'd been sitting cross-legged on the floor near the door wearing only his boxers. Now he rose and padded silently across the room. When he reached the bed, he knelt on the floor in front of me, nudging between my knees so that he could wrap his arms around me and cuddle me against his chest.

The emotional stresses of the day had left me feeling worn and weary. I wanted nothing more than to savor the comforting heat of Nahuel's smooth skin. I laid my head on his shoulder and yawned widely. "What were you doing?"

His large hands began to move up and down my back, gently rubbing and massaging. "I was thinking. I did not want to disturb your sleep, so I sat on the floor."

"What were you thinking about?"

His fingers pressed into my muscles as his hands moved in long slow strokes from my waist, up my spine to my shoulders, and then back down again. I hadn't realized how tense my body was until his magical fingers began their work.

"I do not wish to say right now," he answered, cautiously. "I am not finished with my thoughts."

I chuckled against the hot skin of his throat, then hissed in pain when his fingers found a particularly tense knot of muscle.

He began trailing soft, wet kisses along my jawline and his hands left off their massaging to slip under the hem of my T-shirt.

"Your muscles are tight. You have been unhappy today, and I do not understand what has made you so," he whispered. I could see only the outlines of his beautiful face, but I imagined the worry in his voice was also etched in his teak eyes.

"I do not know what to do to help you. I cannot erase the cause of your unhappiness, but perhaps I can make you forget for a little while."

I wanted to tell him that I was fine and that he should stop worrying. But I didn't want to lie to him. The truth was, my conversation with Jake and all its implications, and Charlie and Mom's revelations, were weighing heavily on my mind. While I searched for some soothing words that I wasn't uncomfortable saying, he pulled my T-shirt over my head and dropped it on the bed. I shivered when his long, clever fingers cupped my breasts and his thumbs began tracing feather-light circles around my nipples.

"Let me inside you, ñi piuque."

I draped my arms around his shoulders and arched toward him. My eyes drifted closed, and I almost forgot that we were not alone in the house. Until a particularly load moan and the wet sound of flesh slapping rhythmically against flesh from across the hall reminded me that Seth and Anjali were also here. And that no matter how much I wanted Nahuel, I was still way more inhibited than my baby brother apparently was.

I tried to swallow my groan as Nahuel lowered his mouth to my breasts and his fingers delved under the legs of my shorts. His breathing grew ragged when his fingers discovered I was already soaking wet. He gripped the waistband of my shorts and underwear and slid them both down my legs.

"Baby, stop. I can't," I whined. "I just can't. Not with them here."

Nahuel was off the floor in a second. In the next instant, he'd swaddled me in the comforter like an infant, scooped me up and was out my bedroom door. Still carrying me, he ghosted through the living room and slipped out the kitchen door. Maybe I should have demanded he put me down, or at least tell me where he was taking me. But the truth was I didn't care at all, as long as it was somewhere that we could be alone.

When he reached the driveway, he began to run at full vampire speed. Somehow, I always managed to forget how incredibly fast and strong he was. After a few moments of trying to make sense of the blurring scenery around us, I just gave up, snuggled my face into the crook of his neck, and closed my eyes.

I didn't open them again until his pace slowed and I felt the pavement beneath his feet morph into sand. He'd brought us to La Push. While the early days of autumn were still warm on the Olympic Peninsula, the nights were already growing cold. A breeze off the ocean made the beach even colder at night. While the temperature wouldn't faze Nahuel or me, there was no way any normal human would be on the beach in this chill and at this hour. But I wanted him so badly, I wouldn't have cared if the entire tribal council erected a prayer ring around us.

He lowered my feet to the sand, and I realized he'd brought me to the exact outcropping of rock where I'd found him broken, alone and suicidal a month ago. He peeled the comforter from around my body, shook it out and knelt to spread it over the sand. Before he was done, I was beside him, helping him smooth our makeshift bed. I finished flipping over a corner of the comforter and turned back to him.

His teak eyes were locked on my naked breasts, and his hard-on was already flying under full sail, so to speak.

I felt smugly satisfied. Even after spending so many hours in the past few days becoming intimately acquainted with my body, Nahuel still found my tits mesmerizing. I must have made some sound of amusement, because his eyes flashed to my face, widening slightly when he caught my smirk.

He grinned ruefully, silently acknowledging the power my body held over his. Then he upped the ante by abruptly shoving his boxers down his thighs. Now it was my turn to gape.

Before I phased the first time and started running with a pack of testosterone-crazed male wolves, I'd actually had _girlfriends_, like a normal woman. Over the years, I'd heard more than one of my female friends rhapsodize about the grandeur of her boyfriend's dick. I'd secretly thought they were all morons.

I'd seen my share of pictures, and I'd decided the male organ was funny looking at best and downright ugly at worst. Even after discovering the joys of sex with Sam, I'd kept my opinion that how it looked was _not_ the appealing aspect of a guy's johnson.

Still, it didn't surprise me at all that I found Nahuel's erection beautiful. Everything about him drew me in, like the gravity of the sun plucking a helpless meteor from its orbit. As my fingers closed around him, I idly wondered if that poor, powerless meteor was as eager to incinerate in the sun's flame as I was to lose myself in Nahuel's sensual heat.

His entire body began to quake the moment I touched him. Still on my knees, I slid closer to him on the blanket, my hand never faltering in its slow, firm rhythm. I brushed my nose along the chiseled curve of his jaw, silently offering him my lips. His mouth seized mine roughly, evoking memories of the first time he'd kissed me on this very beach.

Of course, my vamp-boy was incapable of _not_ touching me, and while my hand drove his excitement higher, his were roaming over my sides, my back, my breasts. I couldn't decide which I found more stimulating, the tremors in his hands as they touched me, or the way his hips bucked forward with every stroke of _my_ hand. I felt incredibly powerful and sensual knowing that I could make him lose control so easily.

I was working his hard, heated flesh with both hands now, thrilled that I really did need both to do the job right. His groans and gasps were the sweetest symphony I'd ever heard. He'd brought me here with the intention of helping me escape for a while from what was bothering me. But suddenly, I wanted to push him over the edge, to give him this ecstasy. I wanted it even more than I wanted to feel him inside me.

"Let go, baby," I urged, quickening my pace and looking up to study his face. His head was titled back, his spine was arched and his eyes were clenched shut. He was clearly struggling to hold back his climax, and I felt a twinge of irritation. _I_ wanted to be in control of his body at this moment. There was so much I couldn't control in our lives, that I was damned if I wanted to relinquish this sliver of _real_ power, even to him.

"Come for me, baby," I demanded, raising my voice to compete with the crashing of the waves behind us. Thinking I wasn't going to get what I wanted, I began to kiss my way down his stomach with every intention of using my mouth to seal the deal.

When my lips reached the vicinity of my hands, his head snapped down and his eyes popped open, glittering diamond hard in the moonlight. I had no idea how the man could form a single coherent thought, let alone string it into a sentence, but a snarl ripped through his gritted teeth.

"Inside you," he growled.

It wasn't the first time he'd used that damned vampire speed on me. Before the tingling nerve endings in my hands could tell my brain that they were empty, he'd pulled me onto his lap. Suddenly an entirely different part of my body was reporting to my short-circuiting nervous system the exact location of Nahuel's beautiful hard-on. My entire body tightened around his erection as he pushed into me, slamming my pelvis down on his.

Acting entirely on their own volition, my legs wrapped around his back and crossed at the ankles. As I quivered in his arms, trying to keep control of my own body, he levered his legs up behind me so that I was sandwiched between his chest and thighs. The change in position pushed him even deeper.

I'd been wet and ready for him since he'd felt me up in my room earlier in the night. My body was primed, and the bastard knew it. His hot, powerful hands gripped my hips, forcing me to circle and grind against him. The orgasm I'd been trying to wring out of him seconds ago roared through me almost instantly. I was that fucking helpless meteor again, plunging blindly, fatally, into the heart of the sun, offering up my own paltry flame to be consumed by this all-powerful heat that was as old as time, as transcendent as the face of God.

As my awareness ignited and my body sizzled, I heard my imprint cry out. He flooded me with the heat of his release. The erotic thrill of knowing he would remain a part of me, even when our bodies separated, hurtled me into a second mind-numbing climax even fierier than the first.

When the conflagration finally died down to a mere smolder, I found myself entirely draped around Nahuel's sweat-slicked body. I felt limp and boneless, incapable of moving a muscle even if I'd wanted too.

"Oh my god," I sighed, my head lolling carelessly on his broad shoulder. "How do you do that to me every time?"

Of course, in typical Nahuel fashion, he didn't pull out of my body and his hands were caressing lazy patterns over my back. "Do what, ñi piuque?"

"Make me lose control," I accused, pushing back to glare at him. I was feeling playful, not pissed, and he knew me well enough by now to correctly interpret my mood.

"I brought you here to make _you_ feel good," he replied, sliding both big hands up my back to tangle his fingers in the hair at my nape. He gently tugged my head back so he could have access to my throat. "I did not want to end things so quickly before you were satisfied."

His lips moved down my neck to my collar bone. "Besides," he grumbled against my damp skin, "I have had one hundred and fifty years of gratifying myself with my own hand. I refuse to waste even one opportunity to spend myself inside your body."

I snickered into his hair, savoring his delectable scent. _How the hell can he still smell so incredible when the man is bathed in sweat? _

"Are you seriously saying you'll refuse all future offers of getting off with a hand job or blow job?" I teased.

"Yes," he replied, immediately and emphatically. When I outright laughed in his face, he relented slightly.

"Perhaps I will feel differently in fifty years. We can revisit the idea at that time," he promised magnanimously. "Meanwhile …" Without withdrawing, he rocked forward and rolled me onto my back beneath him in a single fluid motion. "… I would like to take advantage of this opportunity again."

I'd started laughing when he flipped me onto my back, but when I felt him growing hard inside me again, my snickers choked off in a gasp. I wanted to tell him something before we moved on to round two, and from the feel of things I needed to talk fast.

I wove my fingers into his hair and gripped tightly to capture his attention. His teak eyes met mine, curiosity flickering in their golden depths.

"Nahuel, thank you for this. You were right that something's been bothering me today. I want you to know that it's nothing you did or said that upset me. I do want to talk to you about it. I'm just not feeling ready yet. Is that alright?"

His smile was sweet and tender. "Of course." He pressed a soft kiss to my lips at the same time that he nudged his hips forward, reminding me he wasn't finished with me yet tonight. It was the kind of move that pretty much ensured I'd be completely off-guard and barely able to focus on what he said next.

"I am ready to tell you what I was thinking about while you slept tonight."

His too-innocent eyes and distractingly sneaky, shallow thrusts should have tipped me off that he was up to something. But of course, I was totally dick-whipped by this man and I walked right into it.

"What were you thinking about, baby?" I squeaked out the last word as his hips slowly recoiled, drawing his length almost completely out of me. My breath stuttered into craven panting when he quickly slid back in, all the way, as deeply as he could go before my body just couldn't fit any more of him.

"I was thinking that I would like for us to do what Charlie and Sue plan to do."

_What? What the hell is he talking about? Does he mean he wants to go with the Cullens? Or …_

Coherent thought disintegrated as he drew my left knee up, draping that calf over his right shoulder so he could have even better access. He withdrew and pumped into me powerfully again.

"I want to marry you."

_Christ on a crutch._


	19. Sense of Doubt

**_A/N: _**_Okay, let me clear up any suspicions that may be lingering in your mind from the end of Chapter 18. No, the proposal scene was not based on personal experience! If only! *Sighs dreamily*  
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_Thanks as always to Evelyn-Shaye and MunkeeRajah, the best betas in the world. They are soooo much more than proofreaders! If this story is good, they are a big part of why, and I wouldn't trade them for anything, not even for a glimpse of Nahuel in his boxers!_

_The technical glitch that kept people from reviewing Chapter 18 should be resolved with this chapter, so have at it. Remember, when we get to 350 reviews I'll post another outtake from Nahuel's POV. If that's not enough to tempt you to speak your mind, I'll also send a preview of Chapter 20 to everyone who reviews._

_Finally, I'm making a story rec - if you haven't already discovered the lovely work of BellaEdwardLover1991, please check out her drabble Sunshine's Path. We've got a deal going that she double updates on days when I update. Let me tell you, I know from experience it's a lot harder to produce a couple hundred pithy, intelligent and moving words like she does than it is to yammer on for 5,000 like I do!  
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_Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight._

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><p>Chapter 19 – Sense of Doubt<p>

**Leah POV**

The first time I received a marriage proposal, it was the kind of romantic, perfect moment that every girl dreams about. On my twenty-first birthday, Sam whisked me away to Seattle for a romantic weekend. He staged the proposal at one of the city's finest restaurants, hid the ring at the bottom of a champagne flute and even got down on one knee in front of everyone in the dining room. The adoration in his eyes made me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world.

It was the kind of proposal that makes your friends swoon when you recount it, the kind you know you'll be telling your grandchildren about with a twinkle in your eye long after you've gone gray and saggy. I immediately said yes without a moment's doubt, absolutely sure I'd just taken the first step toward a life of blissful happiness with the man of my dreams.

I think we all know how that turned out.

In contrast—because really, how could a mere human boyfriend ever _compare_ to a half-vampire imprint?—the details of Nahuel's proposal, delivered mid-thrust, weren't ones I'd ever share in polite company. And while I was surer of my love for him than anything else in my life, the idea of marrying him left me totally confused and, frankly, terrified.

First of all, I couldn't imagine why he would want to, and I asked him that bluntly once my eyes uncrossed from the shock—and my third orgasm of the night. He was already tied to me in the strongest way possible as my imprint. What more did we need?

I didn't think my question was that outrageous given our unique circumstances, so I was surprised by his reaction.

"Humans marry when they are in love, do they not?" he countered, his voice tight with anger. "Mated vampires also wed. You are mine, and I am yours. Why would you question my desire to marry you?"

He was, in so many words, asking what the hell my problem was. Unfortunately, I didn't really _know_ why I wasn't leaping for joy at his proposal. And instead of trying to figure out—with his help—just what was bothering me, I gave him all the logical arguments one would spew out in this kind of situation:

We hadn't been together that long.

He was rushing things.

We didn't know each other that well.

We were too different.

What would people say?

His father wouldn't approve, and would probably try to kill us both because of it.

The more excuses I trotted out, the angrier—and quieter—he became. In the end, he was angry enough to lever himself from between my thighs, grab the edge of the comforter and yank it out from under me. He wrapped me in the sandy covering without another word and ran with me in his arms back to the house in total silence.

It didn't dawn on me that I'd deeply wounded his feelings, that his anger was a cover for the hurt, until we were back in my bed, and his quiet, even breathing signaled that he'd fallen asleep. By then it was too late to apologize.

Sometimes I just couldn't get the hell out of my own way.

SSW/SSW/SSW

The fact that Nahuel didn't bring up marriage again in the days and weeks that followed made me think that he was very hurt by my lack of an enthusiastic response. Our day-to-day reality—as bizarre as it was with battle training, patrolling for rogue vampires and trying to figure out what Joham's next move would be—quickly regained prominence in my mind, and I was happy to let Nahuel's proposal drift to the bottom of my consciousness.

Still, despite our growing closeness and the fact that he was in my pants at every opportunity, I knew the question still burned for Nahuel. His total silence on the subject made me feel almost as pressured as if he'd been riding my ass about it every single day.

So the idea was never really gone from my mind. As the weeks wore on and Jake's wedding approached, I began to think about it even more. Questions overwhelmed me.

When Joham was finally out of our lives, would we stay in Forks? Would Nahuel want to? Would he rather return to South America? Would he want me to go with him? Or would he want to stay with his sister and follow the Cullens like everyone else seemed to be planning to do?

But even with all those very valid questions stewing in my brain, I knew that at the heart of it, my reaction really made no sense. Not only was Nahuel my imprint, I loved him—completely and irrationally. Every instinct screamed at me to give him what he wanted. So what was my problem? Why couldn't I make this commitment? If marriage really was so insignificant compared to the power of the imprinting bond, what was the big deal in giving the man I loved something he so obviously desired?

I really needed someone to sound off to, but who? Talking to my mother or Seth was out of the question. They'd both have me picking out china patterns before I got five words out of my mouth. And somehow it didn't feel right to dump one more thing on Jake, especially when he was dealing with all the pressures of his own impending nuptials.

I was sinking fast beneath the weight of trying to make this monumental decision on my own.

The irony of the situation did not escape me. I'd resented the hell out of the whole idea of imprinting, because I felt it took away my choices. And now that I was faced with a situation in which I actually _had_ a choice, I couldn't make up my mind.

I was dismally, stupidly vapor-locked.

I was also desperate. I needed to talk to someone. It needed to be someone who could understand my unique circumstances. And it needed to be someone who could keep a secret—in more ways than one.

I could think of only one person who fit that description, which was how I wound up one afternoon standing outside a quaint little stone cottage, in a secluded glade in the woods somewhere on the sprawling expanse of Cullen lands. I was about to talk to the last person I'd ever thought I'd turn to for advice.

Bella opened the door just as I raised my hand to knock.

"Oh! Hi, Leah."

I didn't know why she sounded surprised. She must have heard me walk up to the house. Plus, I'd called her the night before to ask if it would be okay to come over. I'd told her I wanted to talk to her alone, and let her draw her own conclusion that it would be about her father and my mother. After all, we were going to be—_Gah!_—step-sisters someday soon.

I dropped my hand and cleared my throat, trying to take minimal, shallow breaths. The vampire stench was really bad, probably because the structure was so small and Bella and Edward spent a lot of their time here, alone.

"Hi, Bella. Thanks for agreeing to see me."

She blinked at me like an owl, her surprise actually seeming to grow. Of all the Cullens, Bella really was the most human, maybe because she'd _been_ human not so long ago. "Oh sure, no problem. Would you like to come in?"

_Good God, no! How can Nahuel smell so good when the rest of them smell so damn bad? _

"Uh, I was hoping maybe we could take a walk?"

Bella was closing the door behind her before I finished my sentence. "Say no more," she chuckled. "We can stroll down by the river. Sometimes I forget that not everyone is as used to _eau du_ vampire as Jake."

"Thanks," I mumbled as Bella led me down a path of small river stones that wound around the side of the house and led to the backyard garden. Past the adorable little white picket fence that defined the perimeter of the garden, an open field stretched a few hundred feet to the tree line. Beyond the trees, the river burbled along with an annoyingly mirthful sound.

We walked in uncomfortable silence through the garden and out into the field. Now that I was actually here, I had no idea how to begin. I'd never been friendly with Bella. Hell, I'd barely ever been civil to her. I was surprised that she let me off the hook by making the first move.

"So, Leah, did you want to talk to me about Sue's bridal shower?"

I halted and gaped at her. I hadn't even thought about it, but now that she brought it up, I realized as the daughter of the bride, I should probably be responsible for my mom's shower. _Shit_! I knew buttkiss about planning something like that.

"Uh, no," I stammered. "I mean, I guess we should discuss it, but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh." Confusion knitted her perfectly arched brows. She watched me expectantly, and when I didn't immediately elaborate, she began to walk again, tipping her head in a beckoning gesture.

"Is it about Jake? Or Renesmee?" she ventured after another minute of silent shuffling on my part.

"No, it's nothing to do with them, or the pack …." I trailed off.

She tried to help me out again. "Look, I know we're not really friends, but we're going to be step-sisters soon," she said. "I don't have to know you well to be able to see something is really bothering you."

She chuckled unexpectedly. "I mean, you must be really desperate about whatever it is if you want to talk to _me_ about it."

I smiled nervously, feeling heat flush across my cheeks. "Yeah, you could say that."

_Aaahh, fuck it. Just spit it out._

"Nahuel asked me to marry him," I blurted.

She stopped dead in her tracks and her jaw dropped open. She froze, utterly still in that super-creepy way that vampires get when they forget that humans fidget. She knew I'd imprinted on Nahuel—by now, everyone knew. But she looked as stunned by the idea of a marriage proposal as I had felt when it happened. She recovered quickly, however, clapping her mouth shut. _Must get it from Charlie._

"Hey, congratulations," she offered, her smile genuine. Whatever she saw on my face caused her grin to falter and fade. "I mean, I'm assuming congratulations are in order, but maybe not?"

I rubbed my hand over my eyes and stared at my feet. "I don't know. I haven't answered him yet."

"Oh." The confusion was back in her musical voice. "I don't want to sound unfriendly, but I'm not sure why you're telling me this."

"I need to talk to someone," I sighed, dropping my hand from my eyes and finally looking at her too-perfect face. "I have no freaking idea what to do."

"So you want to talk to _me_?" she asked, disbelief ringing bell-like in her voice. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable talking to a friend about this? Maybe Jake? Or Renesmee? What about Rachel?"

"I'm not _comfortable_ talking to _anyone_ about this right now," I snapped at her. "But I thought maybe you could tell me what you did … how you handled things when Edward proposed."

She shook her head, frowning. "I'm not so sure that's going to be helpful to you. I didn't handle it well at first."

"Yeah, well, neither am I," I replied. "But I thought maybe you could give me some advice on dealing with an immortal that's hell-bent on being altar-bound."

She chuckled. "They can be pretty persistent, can't they? Edward really pestered me. Is Nahuel being insistent?"

I shook my head. "Actually, he's only brought it up once, but that was enough. I've been getting the silent treatment on the subject since."

She shrugged. "So, maybe the problem is solved for you? Maybe he's decided to let it go. I mean, at least for now?"

I'd wished for such an easy out. But I knew my imprint; the things he talked about the least were often the things that bothered him the most. "I don't think he's let it go. I think he's just really hurt and doesn't know what else to do. The last thing I want is to hurt him so much that this comes between us."

"Hmmmm. I see." She studied me thoughtfully for a moment, and then resumed walking. "Well, I'll help you however I can, but I'm not really sure our situations are that similar. I mean, you and Nahuel are on a lot more equal footing than I was with Edward."

I shook my head and raised my eyebrows at her. "I don't get it."

"Well, Edward was much stronger than I, but you and Nahuel seem fairly well matched," she said. "And then, too, Edward was immortal and I was only human. In order for us to have a future together, I had to give up my mortal life and that was a big sticking point for Edward. You don't have that issue."

I knew what she meant. As long as I was around vampires—or a half-vampire—and kept phasing, I wouldn't age. My mortality wouldn't need to be a dividing issue for Nahuel and me. I'd already thought of this, so I was a little surprised that I actually felt better to hear her articulate it. And suddenly, hearing her confirm what I already knew crystalized for me the heart of my hesitation.

I was afraid. I was afraid of the "forever" part of marriage. For Nahuel and me, there would never be a "'til death do us part" loophole. Marrying an immortal truly meant committing to him forever.

"How did you know … I mean, how could you be sure you'd love him _forever_?" I drew in a shaky breath, amazed at myself that I'd actually managed to ask my central question, let alone ask it of Bella.

She stopped again, and, when I kept walking, laid her icy hand gently on my arm. I couldn't help the shivers her clammy touch sent down my spine, and I hoped my reaction wouldn't offend her. She was really trying to help me.

"Leah, I'm obviously no expert on imprinting, and I'm surely no expert on relationships," she said, her voice kind and an amazing warmth in her golden eyes. "But I've seen how imprinting affected Jake and Seth. And I can see the changes in you."

She dropped her hand, but continued to hold my gaze. "I don't think you're worried that _you_ will stop loving _him_. Maybe you're worried that he'll fall out of love with you."

It was as if she'd reached into my head to a little hidden room that I hadn't even known was there. A room where I'd locked away my deepest fears about my imprint. She kicked the door down with her dainty vampire foot and dragged my insecurity out into the harsh light of reality.

Bella was right.

It wasn't that I was afraid I'd ever stop loving Nahuel. That would be like saying I could one day learn to exist without oxygen. I was afraid I couldn't hold his attention beyond the conclusion of this crisis with his father, let alone for eternity. I knew he loved me, but for how much longer?

_How can I expect him to love me, to want to be with me, forever?_

I didn't realize I'd spoken aloud, but I must have because Bella answered me.

"I can't tell you the answer to that," she said. "But I think you know who can."

I knew what she was going to say, so I said it for her. "Nahuel."

She grinned and nodded.

And our cellphones began to ring at exactly the same moment, hers playing something that sounded classical, mine still bleating out that damned Shangri-Las tune. We answered in tandem.

"Hey, Jake. What's up?"

"Hello, Edward?"

Jacob sounded hurried and stressed. "Charlie's here at the Cullens'. There's been another murder in Port Angeles, and it looks like the work of a vampire."

"Shhiiittt," I hissed. "I'll be right there." I glanced at Bella and guessed from her expression that she was hearing the same story from Edward. I ended the call at the same time she ended hers.

"Guess we're going to the same place," I said.

She studied me for a second, and then her lips curved into a knowing smile. "Yes, I really think we are," she said.

And I knew she was talking about more than just a trip back across the field.


	20. As the World Falls Down

_**A/N:** Well, here we are again. I'm not going to say a whole lot other than I'm really happy with this chapter and I hope you will be too._

_Thanks as usual to MunkeeRajah and Evelyn-Shaye for always finding the time to make my chapters sing. I love them so much that if the world ended in a zombie apocalypse, I'd definitely welcome them both into my motor home!  
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_Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, and I'm just sneaking candy from her Halloween bucket.  
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><p>Chapter 20 – As the World Falls Down<p>

**Leah POV**

_Another fucking dress. _

Standing on a little platform in front of the dress shop's floor-to-ceiling, three-sided mirror, I turned in a slow pirouette. I was absorbing from every angle the overtly oozing sensuality of the dress Alice had picked out for me to wear to Jake and Renesmee's wedding.

Why was I letting that pixie vampire outfit me? Because I'd stupidly thought it would be easier than having to pick something out myself. Here was the price I paid for convenience: the dress Alice chose was a form-fitting number in some sleek, shiny material that showed off a dazzling amount of cleavage.

"Oh, sweetheart, you look beautiful," Mom said, a sappy grin plastered on her face.

Although I was surprised that my mother didn't think the amount of boob exposure was trashy, I had to admit the dress looked good on me. That was the problem.

It looked _so_ good that I was pretty sure I'd spend the day of the wedding trying to convince Nahuel it would be inappropriate for him to carry me off somewhere to get me _out_ of the dress. That scenario would leave both of us frustrated for the whole day. And if the question of Nahuel's proposal was still hanging over my head at the same time, well, the day would suck rocks for both of us.

Since the dress was a done deal—there was no betting against, or arguing with, Alice—my only hope for getting through Jake's wedding with my sanity intact was to settle the proposal question beforehand. I'd started today half convinced that this was the day when we would finally talk about it. Seeing myself in the dress helped me decide. After my discussion with Bella a few days ago, I felt like I was probably as ready as I'd ever be.

The bell on the shop door tinkled merrily above Charlie's head as he stepped through it. I wanted to rip the damned thing off and stomp on it.

When Mom had suggested that we combine our dress-retrieval trip with Charlie's meeting with Port Angeles' finest to discuss the two unsolved murders, I'd thought it was the best I could do given the circumstances. I'd have much rather met with the cops myself, but there was no way Charlie could justify having me in a conference about police business. Since I wasn't getting out of the fitting, I figured riding home with him in his cruiser would be the fastest way to find out any new information he'd learned.

After two hours of fitting, adjusting and accessorizing, however, I was insanely jealous of Charlie. He'd gotten to spend his time in the city doing something constructive, while I— well, I spent the time in a fucking dress.

Charlie greeted my mother with a peck on the cheek, and saluted me with an appreciative whistle. "Looking good, Leah."

"Thanks," I grumbled. I turned to the sales woman who'd been hovering like a vulture that had found some particularly tasty road kill. "Are we done?"

"Oh, I don't think we could do a single thing to make this dress more beautiful," buzzard-babe gushed. "It's simply stunning on you. We'll get it wrapped up and ready to go. Will we be taking the matching shoes and handbag as well?"

"No, we will not," I sniped. What the hell was with the royal "we"?

Mom glared at me. "Yes, we will," she corrected. She gave the sales woman a dazzling smile. "Thank you so much for your help and patience." I rolled my eyes at her. It's not like I tipped over a display rack or anything. I wasn't _that_ bad a customer. Was I?

I stepped back into the dressing room, quickly slipped out of the dress and shoved it through the opening at the bottom of the door. "Here, Mom. Grab this so she can bag it while I'm dressing and we can get the hell out of here."

By the time I'd finished putting on my jeans and sweater, the sales woman had the dress neatly stored in a garment bag. I'd never been so relieved to slide into the backseat of Charlie's cruiser. Mom rode shotgun next to Charlie.

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and cursed silently when I realized the battery had died. "Mom, can I borrow your cell? I want to call Paul and let him know we're on the way home."

After the latest murder, we were keeping a closer watch than ever on Nahuel, Renesmee and Anjali. The killings had all the hallmarks of a vampire attack, and while it was technically in the jurisdiction of the Port Angeles authorities, it had happened much closer to Forks than the last murder. We were pretty sure this meant Joham's underlings were closing in, looking for just the right opening and opportunity. Jake was determined they wouldn't find either, and had ordered that each hybrid be under the protection of at least one pack member at all times.

Today, Paul had pulled the Nahuel-sitting duties while I was out of the house. Since he and Rachel were trying for yet another baby, I knew he would appreciate knowing he could soon go home to her.

"I already called Paul while you were changing," my mother chirped, her overt cheerfulness instantly buzzing my crap detector.

"Okay, so just let me call him again to give him our E.T.A." I reached through the opening in the security cage that separated the cruiser's front and rear compartments. After a moment's hesitation, she slipped her cell into my hand. I tabbed through her contacts list and quickly found Paul's number.

When he still hadn't answered on the sixth ring, I disconnected the call, waited five seconds and hit redial. This time he answered on the third ring, sounding breathless and annoyed.

"Yeah, Sue. What's up?"

"Paul, it's Leah. I just wanted to let you know we're on the way home. We'll be there in about thirty minutes."

"Uh … oh. Okay. Well, see you soon."

His hesitation was so minute, so subtle that I might have convinced myself to overlook it. But in the back of my head, that usually useless inner bitch voice was whispering to be heard, warning me that something was up. "Paul, let me talk to Nahuel."

"Uhm, he's not here right now."

"What do you mean he's not there? Where the hell is he? He's not supposed to leave the house alone," I snapped.

An icy finger of dread scratched at the base of my brain.

Paul sighed, irritation creeping into his voice. "Chill out, Leah. Nahuel's at home. I left your house about twenty minutes ago, right after Sue called. I needed to get home myself, and Nahuel said he'd be okay alone until you got there."

Like the opening of an airlock in a sci-fi horror flick, Paul's words sucked all the air out of my lungs in a loud and painful hiss. I didn't even try to respond to him. I just ended the call, threw the phone back through the divider and started shrieking at Charlie to go faster, to get me the hell home.

That inner voice was done whispering and was screaming at me now, a hysterical, insane sound that I was terrified would come through my mouth at any moment. My chest hurt. I could barely draw breath around the tightly wound ball of pain that was bouncing beneath my solar plexus. Was I having a heart attack?

Charlie's brown eyes, wide with surprise, studied me in the rearview mirror. "What's going on? What did Paul say?"

"Nahuel's alone," I shouted. "He's unprotected. Goddammit, Charlie, put on the fucking lights and siren and go!"

"Calm down," Charlie said, his voice level and controlled. "I'm sure everything's fine. Sue, why don't you try calling your house? I'm sure Nahuel will answer."

Mom quickly punched in the number and I could hear the phone ringing. After six rings, our machine picked up. She disconnected the call and tried again. This time, it went to voicemail after just four rings. She closed her phone without a word.

"Charlie, I think you should turn on the lights and siren," she said quietly.

Whether he was just humoring her, trying to keep me from clawing my way through the divider, or truly felt worried, Charlie did as she asked. We raced down the highway toward the rez. Even with the cruiser's lights and sirens clearing the road of other vehicles, we were a good twenty minutes from home.

I spent every one of them in utter agony.

When we turned off the highway onto the road leading to the house, Charlie had to slow down. I began tugging on the door handle, prepared to jump out, phase and run; it would have been faster. Of course, I was in a police car and there was no way to open it from the inside.

By the time the cruiser lurched to a halt in our gravel driveway, I was shaking so badly my hand kept slipping off the door handle.

"Let me out! Open the car door!"

Some silent communication passed between Mom and Charlie, and I leaned forward, my face pressed to the divider's opening to see what was going on. It took just two seconds to spot what they were hoping I _wouldn't_ see.

The front door of our house was wide open.

Charlie turned to look at me. "I think you should both stay here while I check this out."

I didn't even bother to argue. I swiveled on the back seat, lifted my legs and began hammering both feet against the side window. The car door vibrated with the repeated impacts and the window groaned.

"Shit, Leah! What are you doing?" Charlie shouted, springing from the front seat. He opened the back door and I was out and running for the house before he'd gotten it halfway open.

I didn't scream Nahuel's name as I sprinted toward the front door. Somehow, I already knew he wouldn't be there.

I charged through the open door with Charlie five steps behind me and Mom a few more behind him. I stopped so abruptly that he actually ran into me from behind, bumping me forward a few feet into the room.

The reek of vampire was overpowering. I could identify at least two unfamiliar scents, and it was possible there could have been more. My brain was too busy frantically sifting through odors for any hint of cinnamon and spice to accurately analyze all the other scents I was picking up.

Behind me, Charlie cursed and my mother gasped as they took in the state of our home. It was hard to believe this level of devastation had been accomplished in just forty minutes.

The living room was trashed. The sofa and my father's armchair were ripped to shreds, their stuffing strewn about the room. The coffee table lay on its side, its glass top shattered. The walls looked like they'd been swept clean by a madman, and frames and artwork were scattered and broken throughout the room. Through the door leading into the kitchen, I could see a similar mess.

I was gasping, struggling to breathe around the pain in my chest. Yet every molecule of air I managed to suck into my laboring lungs brought no relief, only the sickening stench of strange vampire and the excruciating absence of Nahuel.

The roaring in my ears was growing louder. Part of my brain continued to catalog what was happening around me:

Charlie, gun drawn, moving quickly through the house, searching. Finding no one.

Charlie's voice telling my mother to call Jacob.

The tinny, distant sound of Jake's voice on the phone.

The haphazard destruction of our home.

The inexplicable presence of shredded flower petals and stems over every visible surface.

Worst and most confusing was the bone-crushing cold. I was freezing, my body shivering and my teeth chattering. It was so cold that I wondered why I couldn't see my breath pluming in front of me. Charlie was standing beside me, saying something, and I noticed the sheen of sweat on his forehead. Abruptly I realized it wasn't the room that was arctic; it was me.

Nothing ever felt warm to me except Nahuel. His absence created a void as cold, dark and lonely as the empty, sterile eternity between the stars.

I knew that I was falling apart, but I was still surprised when my legs buckled beneath me. I hit the floor hard, my right knee landing painfully on something small and sharp. Dazed, I barely heard my mother calling my name over the roaring in my ears. My hands fumbled on the floor, seeking whatever it was I'd fallen on.

When I found it, I brought the offending item up to my face. It took my brain a full ten seconds to recognize what I held, and another five to connect the significance of that item and the crushed, torn flowers that littered the room. The thunderclap of understanding overpowered the roaring in my head.

My mother was kneeling in front of me, tears streaking down her lovely face. My icy fingers shook as I held up her diamond solitaire.

Dad had loved to tell Seth and me how he'd worked three jobs and saved for nearly a year to buy her that modest, half-karat ring. When I was a kid, I never saw her without it. Even after he died, she'd continued to wear it. When her relationship with Charlie had turned serious, she'd finally taken it off and put it away in a jewelry box in her room. I hadn't seen it in two years.

She read the question in my eyes.

"He asked me for help," she whispered. Her eyes moved from the ring I still held to sweep around the room, lingering over the shattered vases and desecrated flowers. "He said he got it all wrong the first time he asked, and he wanted to do it right this time. He wanted to ask again, with a ring and flowers, in front of Charlie and me so we could give our blessing."

She clasped my trembling hand in both of hers. "I offered him my ring," she sobbed. "He was so happy. So grateful …." She disintegrated into heartbroken, uncontrollable weeping.

Charlie's voice was strained, but steady. "Leah, Jake's on his way with Renesmee. We'll organize a search. We'll find him."

The ring slipped from my numb fingers, hitting the floor with a quiet ping. I was on my feet, moving toward the door.

I was halfway there when my mother's small but strong arms wrapped around my knees, tripping me. I hit the floor face-first, banging my chin painfully on the cold, battered hardwood. The metallic tang of blood flooded my mouth; I'd bitten my tongue.

I couldn't find breath to shout at her, and there was no way I was going to risk hurting her by trying to make her let go. Using only my arms, I began dragging both of us toward the door.

"Charlie!" my mother screamed. "Help me! She can't go after him alone. Help me!"

I was a lot stronger than my mother. I could have gotten away from her, even while doing my best not to hurt her. I was stronger than Charlie, too, but Chief Charles Swan had twenty years of experience holding on to people who wanted to get away from him. He hit me like a linebacker, throwing himself on top of me and putting me in a strangle hold before I'd crawled another foot.

"Goddammit, let me go!" If I'd been able to get enough air into my lungs, I would have been screaming for all I was worth. As it was, between the pain in my chest and Charlie's arm around my throat, I was barely able to wheeze.

"You need to stay put until Jake gets here." He sounded short of breath, but somehow still calm and confident. "You going off half-cocked won't do Nahuel or yourself any good."

My brain absorbed what he said, but my body was acting independently. I could no more stop struggling against Charlie's hold than I could give up on drawing breath.

"You don't understand." I was weeping hysterically now, wasting precious air on labored, heaving sobs. "I have to tell him I'm sorry."

_I have to tell him that my answer is yes. It's always been yes._

I began thrashing harder, pushing back against Charlie's hold. A loud crack announced the impact of my head on his nose. Charlie cursed a blue streak, but his hold never faltered. And now my mother was lying across my legs, using all her weight to keep me from kicking or finding a toehold.

I couldn't see anything but the floor in front of me and the few feet of it that separated me from the door. That patch of floor slowly began spinning in front of my eyes, and the rotation seemed to be wringing the strength from my limbs. As my struggles grew weaker, I began to feel the full weight of Charlie's body pressing down on me from behind. My chest was compressed against the floor and each painful breath I drew seemed more shallow and useless than the last.

"Hold her tighter, Charlie," my mother commanded, her voice tear-filled but implacable. "Jake will be here any minute."

The arm around my neck tightened, cutting off what little air I'd been getting. Charlie was a lot stronger than I'd thought.

The cold that had begun creeping through my limbs the moment I realized my imprint was missing—_Taken!_—finally reached my brain. Someone was calling my name, but I didn't know who.

I only knew it _wasn't_ Nahuel.

That thought cut my last tether to consciousness, and I sank into the black, silent void behind my eyes.

SSW/SSW/SSW

Heat and pressure ruthlessly forced me into awareness. The agony in my chest had eased enough to allow me to breathe, but now I was burning up. My body, from shoulders to knees, was being steam-pressed flat like a pair of pants at the dry cleaners. I wasn't freezing anymore, but thawing out was fucking uncomfortable. In fact, my head, which seemed to be pillowed on something warm and soft, was the only part of me that felt okay.

I pried my eyes open and squeaked with surprise. I was on my back on the floor and Jacob's face was hovering inches above mine. He was lying on top of me. His forearms were crossed just below my chin, restraining my arms at my sides. His legs, bent slightly at the knee, were pinning mine to the floor with his ankles hooked over my shins. His massive body was a cage of hard muscle and heavy bone that held me immobile on the floor.

_Why the fuck is he on top of me? _

"You're conscious," he said, calmly and obviously. "Sorry to be in your face, but you were thrashing around so much we thought you might hurt yourself."

_We?_

I glanced over his shoulder to see the worried faces of Charlie and Renesmee standing behind him. I realized my head was in my mother's lap at the same moment I felt her cool fingers stroking the hair off my forehead.

The memory of my mother tackling me crashed over me. I craned my neck to glare at her resentfully. She was the reason I was on the floor in the first place, and now my moose of an Alpha was holding me down.

"Get off me," I growled.

Jake studied my face for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't think so. Not until we've come to an understanding."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I hissed in his face. I gave my muscles an experimental flex but there was no budging. I could have dislodged my mother. I could have bucked off Charlie. I could probably have gotten away from both of them together, given a few more minutes. But there was no way I was escaping Jake's hold, because he _was_ stronger than me. A _lot_ stronger, damn him.

Panic was starting to set in, along with an unfamiliar feeling of claustrophobia. I wasn't used to being restrained. And I _needed_ to get up. I needed to go after Nahuel before the trail was cold. Before he did something stupid like try to escape, something that would make his captors decide he was more trouble than he was worth. Or before whoever had taken him turned him over to his demented father.

_For all I know, he's already dead._

I tried to divert my mind from the direction it was heading, but terror was stoking the boiler of my runaway thoughts. I panted shallowly and strained again against Jacob's hold.

"Stop it!" he barked, the command in his tone drawing my mind back from the edge of hysteria. It wasn't quite the Alpha voice, but it was as close as he'd ever come to using it on me. When he saw my eyes refocus and was confident he had my attention, he continued.

"We _will_ find Nahuel. We will do it together, as a pack. We will get him back, and he will be fine."

Despair shredded my voice. "You can't know that," I whispered hoarsely. I thrashed my head on my mother's lap. "I can't smell him, can't feel him. It may already be too late."

Jake's big hand curved around my jaw, forcing me to meet his eyes. "No. It's not. If you'll just relax and listen to me, you'll realize I'm right."

The composed calm of his voice was seeping into my brain. I stopped tensing against him and focused on drawing even, deep breaths. I desperately wanted to believe him. My sanity depended on him being right.

"You _know_ he's still alive," Jake continued. "You would feel it if he wasn't. Just calm down, keep breathing like you're doing, and concentrate. You know you can feel the imprinting bond."

He jabbed my chest with a meaty finger. "You feel it here. It's like there's a sinker inside your heart and it's attached to the strongest line ever, and Nahuel's on the other end of it, pulling like the world's greatest fisherman. And every time he pulls, you can feel it, right?"

His hand fisted my shirt, twisting to mimic what he was describing. "You've been afraid that if you give in to that pull, he'll reel you in and you'll never get away. Right?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, nodding. Tears leaked out, painting cold trails down my cheeks. I felt my mother's lips brush my forehead.

Kindness and understanding resonated in Jake's deep voice. "I know, Leah. But now I need you to let him draw you in. Concentrate," he urged. "Can you feel that pull right now?"

When I'd first imprinted, I'd resented that connection, even hated it. Even after I admitted my feelings for Nahuel, a part of me had feared the ultimate loss of control that bond represented. My fear of totally losing myself to this irresistible imperative had fed my insecurities, and held me back from accepting forever with him. How many times had I cursed that damned invisible cable? It would serve me right if I reached for it now and found nothing. I fought back a fearful sob and focused my awareness on the latch point of that connection.

The second I reached for it, the heat and longing blazed to life. Behind my tightly closed eyes I could _see _that bright, burning ribbon of energy stretching out from my center. Relief washed through me at the realization that the connection was still there, still strong, still pulling me toward my center of gravity: Nahuel.

"Yes," I gasped, my eyes flying open. "Jake, I can find him! Let me up. I can use the bond to find him."

A happy grin swooped across Jake's face, and he gave my shoulder an affectionate shake. "There you go. I know you can, and we're going to be depending on you to lead the search," he said.

"But you can't go off by yourself. You need to wait." He held a placating hand up when I opened my mouth to protest. "Just for a little while, an hour or so, until we can get organized."

I shook my head frantically and started struggling against him again. "No, no, no! There's no time to waste! Let me go now and you can follow me when you're ready."

"Leah!" His voice crackled with command. "I am _not_ going to risk your life by letting you go off alone. You are going to wait for all of us."

Jake knew me better than almost anyone, so he had no problem interpreting the stubbornness in my eyes.

"I will make it an order if I have to," he threatened.

The last thing I wanted was for Jake to slap me with an Alpha command that I wouldn't be able to resist. But I also had no intention of sitting on my hands while he organized the pack, the Cullens and whoever else he wanted to bring in on the search party.

There really was no need for me to wait, either, I reasoned. Just as I could use the imprinting bond to track Nahuel, Jake and the others could use our pack mind to find me, no matter how far I traveled looking for my imprint. If I started right away, on my own, I might even find Nahuel by the time Jake's team was organized.

I stopped struggling and gave him what I hoped was a penitent look. "Do I have your cooperation?" he asked.

I nodded, feeling just a little guilty. I squelched that feeling immediately.

"Alright, I'm going to let you up now," he said. Jake rocked back on his heels, preparing to lift himself off my legs. At the same time, I started to sit up, raising my head off my mother's lap. As I moved, I rolled my right hand into a tight fist and cocked my elbow as if I intended to push myself up.

It was a really vicious, shitty trick and I'd probably need to spend the next ten years apologizing for it, but instead of pushing up on my elbow, I slammed my fist as hard as I could right into Jake's exposed crotch.

His eyes bulged like they were about to pop out of his skull and shoot across the room. He went down like a massive bag of bones, crashing to his side on the floor. Groaning breathily, he clutched the family jewels and curled into a tight ball. Renesmee flashed to his side so quickly she blurred.

"Oh my god, Leah!" my mother cried from behind me.

I didn't spare her a glance. I kicked myself away from where Jake lay moaning and I leaped toward the door. I ducked under Charlie's arm as he grabbed for me and exploded out the door. Behind me, I heard the pathetic sound of my best friend wretchedly puking his guts out.

I crossed the porch in two strides and leaped, phasing in mid-air. I hit the ground running and dashed for the trees. As I ran, I forced from my mind the images of my mother's shocked, horrified face and Jacob's powerful body writhing in agony on the floor.

I focused every scrap of awareness on that band of energy and longing that tethered me to Nahuel. I now knew that cable could be stretched and warped, twisted and frayed, but it could never be broken, not even by me.

For the first time, I gave myself over entirely to the power of the imprinting bond and let it drag me at light speed toward the source of my soul.

* * *

><p><strong><em>End note: <em>**_So how much do you all hate me right now? Maybe I should have put a tissue alert at the beginning of the chapter? Please leave me some love. Remember, when we get to 350 reviews, I'll have another Nahuel POV outtake!_


	21. A Big Hurt

**_A/N: _**_Thanks again to everyone who's been reading and reviewing, and to all the new readers who've put SSW on story alert. Things are about to get bumpier than ever for Leah and her vamp-boy!_

_Thanks as always to Evelyn-Shaye and MunkeeRajah for helping me keep this hot mess on track. They are the cat's pajamas!_

* * *

><p>Chapter 21 – A Big Hurt<p>

**Jacob POV**

The only thing more humiliating than getting laid low by a shot to the nuts is having a girl be the one who delivers the shot. And the only thing worse than going down clutching your package because of a girl is taking that fall in front of your fiancé.

I'd been sucker-punched before, but it had never hurt this much—physically or psychologically.

When Leah's fist connected with my junk, I couldn't do anything except collapse and curl up in a tight ball. I didn't even see her go out the door, although the single molecule of my brain that wasn't focused on the pain knew that's where she was headed.

My brutalized balls felt like they were trying to escape my scrotum—not to mention the burning agony—by shriveling back up into my guts. I opened my mouth to curse. My lunch came out instead.

_Fucking ball-busting psycho-bitch. I hate her guts._

Well, no, not really. But it was a little hard to remember that when I was trying to breathe past the excruciating pain and avoid flopping in my own vomit at the same time.

It was bad enough that Leah had probably just delayed the arrival of the next generation of Blacks by a few years. She had to do it in front of Renesmee.

She'd pulverized my pride almost as badly as my testicles, and the betrayal and humiliation hurt just as much as the physical impact. I was a mondo-huge, super-powerful shape-shifting Alpha werewolf, for fuck's sake. And with just one punch in the nads, none of that meant anything.

She'd reduced me to a whimpering little boy flailing on the floor.

It didn't help that my girl was hovering over me at the moment, all loving and caring. It _should_ have. But it just _didn't_.

"Sweetheart, should I get you some ice?"

My balls screamed at the mere suggestion of coming in contact with anything cold. I groaned.

"Fuck, no!" I squeaked like a choir boy.

Her voice was hesitant as her soft hands tenderly caressed my forehead. "Maybe we should call Carlisle," she said tentatively.

From above and behind, I heard Charlie clear his throat. "Nessie, I think Jake just needs a moment."

See, Charlie got it. He knew—most likely from painful experience—that the only treatment for a battered nut sack was time, which, unfortunately, I didn't have a whole lot of right now. And being a dude, he also understood that Renesmee's attempts to take care of me were _not_ making me feel any better. In fact, she was making me feel like even less of a man than I already did, thanks to Leah.

"Honey, can you roll over so I can take a look?"

Oh. Fuck. Me.

"No!" I whined, mortified at the suggestion that I'd let her _examine_ me with Charlie and Sue standing there.

"Baby, I really think I should call Grandfather," she tried again. She tugged gently on my arm in an attempt to convince me to roll onto my back.

Normally, I wouldn't object to Renesmee calling me pet names, mostly because she rarely did it. In fact, since we'd gotten engaged, I'd kind of wished that she _would_ use endearments more often. But hearing them now was almost as nauseating as the pain. My pride had taken about all it could today.

"For fuck's sake, just leave me the fuck alone," I growled, fighting down a dry heave. I jerked my arm out of her hand and pressed my burning cheek flush against the cold wood floor. "Just go away, would you?"

I was being an asshole, but I just couldn't care. The stabbing intensity had died down a bit, but now the pain was cresting and receding in waves. Each peak felt almost as excruciating as the initial moment of impact. With my mind focused on riding out each wave, I was only vaguely aware that Renesmee was gone and that Charlie was now kneeling beside me.

He clapped my shoulder gently. "You let us know when you're ready to get up, okay? Sue and I will just clean up around you."

I nodded my head minutely and closed my eyes against the mortifying scene of Sue on her knees, wiping my puke off the floor with some rags.

Thinking I needed to focus on something besides just how much the pain _hurt_, I began counting the waves, ticking off the numbers with each successive crest. By the time I reached three hundred and seventy-eight the burning had died down to a dull ache, and I felt like I might be able to get the hell off the floor.

I opened my eyes and tentatively stretched my legs from their curled up position. When the ache stayed under control, I slowly rolled to my back, keeping my knees bent. Sue had long since finished mopping up my barf, and I could hear her and Charlie in the kitchen.

"Charlie?"

He stepped into the kitchen door. "Yeah, Jake?"

"Can you give me a hand? I think I can get up now."

"Sure, son." Charlie crossed the room and stopped beside me. "How do you want to do this?"

I considered. "Maybe just steady me until I can get to the couch?"

He nodded confidently. "Sounds like a plan. Let's do it."

I rolled to my side, pushing my knees under me. When I was on all fours, Charlie wrapped an arm around my waist. With the other hand, he took my arm under the elbow. "On three," he directed. "One...two…three!"

With a lot less effort than I'd expected, I was on my feet. Prolonged pain had made my legs rubbery, but with Charlie's help I managed to keep them under me and moving just long enough to flop down on the ripped up sofa. The movement had stirred up the discomfort, but the pain was definitely more manageable.

I was pretty sure Leah's punch would have ruptured a normal set of testicles, but wolf nuts were apparently stronger. And recovered faster. I figured I'd be back to a hundred percent in another hour. Then I'd go after my fucking beta and kick her ass six ways from Sunday. I'd help her find her imprint, and then I'd kick her ass _again_ just for good measure—and because I'd probably still feel like it.

Charlie eyed me warily. "You good?" When I nodded, he continued. "I've been looking around to see if I could pick up any evidence, but I'm really out of my league here. You going to be up to checking things out soon?"

"Think so," I huffed. "But really, I don't expect to find much. It's pretty clear that we're dealing with vampires." Charlie flinched at the word, but I pretended to ignore it. "They tend to not leave a whole lot of evidence."

Charlie glanced around at the trashed living room. "Normally, I'd call all this a lot of evidence, but other than trashed stuff, I can't find any prints or hairs or anything. Course, I'm not a crime scene expert, but I'd at least expect to find something."

"This was a message," I explained. "Whoever took Nahuel wanted us to know it. I'm just not sure what their message is."

I scrubbed at my face, catching a whiff of my own puke-rancid breath. Man, I really needed a toothbrush and some Scope. "As soon as I'm back on my feet, I'll phase and go after Leah. Meanwhile, I'll call Carlisle to fill in the Cullens on what's going on. And I need to get ahold of Paul and Seth to go with me when I start tracking."

The thought of Leah chasing after Nahuel and his captors on her own made my still-queasy stomach roll a bit, but there wasn't much I could do right now except trust that she could take care of herself. At least until I could follow her.

I glanced around the room. "Where's Ness?"

Charlie's eyes turned steely. "She went for a walk after you bit her head off. Haven't seen her in more than an hour."

Shit. I'd been out of it for that long? I sighed. "Guess I need to apologize."

Crossing his arms over his chest, Charlie blew out his mustache and frowned. "I'd say so. And Jacob, I let it go because you were in a world of hurt at the time, but if I ever hear you speak to my granddaughter that way again, Leah's punch is going to feel like a love-tap compared to the ass-kicking I will give you. Capiche?"

_Jesus, who still says 'capiche?'_

"I got it, Charlie." I pulled out my cell and punched in a quick text.

_**Sorry. ima asshole. Come back? **_

As I hit "send," Sue appeared in front of me with a glass of water. "Thanks, Sue."

She nodded sympathetically. "No problem. I'm really sorry for what Leah did. I know she's frantic over Nahuel, but that was no excuse."

I shook my head and sighed again. "No, it wasn't, but it's partially my fault. I should have known she wouldn't wait. After all, I wouldn't if it was Nessie that was missing. I'd resort to any dirty trick I thought I had to in order to go after her right away."

Sue smiled regretfully and headed back to the kitchen. I knew her cleanup efforts were really a ploy to distract herself from her worry over Leah and Nahuel.

My phone chirped a text alert.

_u r a MAJOR asshole. apology not accepted. grovel._

I chuckled and punched in my response.

_**will gladly grovel. miss u. come back baby. **_

_can't. little busy._

That was weird. I tried to imagine what she could be in the middle of, given what was going on right now.

_**doing what?**_

_chasing leah._

Fear slammed into my gut. I completely forgot the pain in my balls.

_**come back now!**_

_can't. gone 2 far._

_**Where r u? i m coming.**_

_due north for the past hour. leah 30 mins ahead_

Fuck! They would be well across the border into unfamiliar territory by now. It was a miracle Ness still had a cell signal, and it probably wouldn't last much longer.

_**stop moving stay where ur phasing now**_

_will stop when catch her. find us_

Shit! I needed to phase in order to track Nessie and Leah. They were both freakishly fast and I was sure it would take me longer than an hour to reach wherever they were, even if they both stopped moving this minute. As soon as I phased, I wouldn't be able to communicate with Renesmee, but Leah might still be in range. Whether she'd listen to me was another matter entirely.

Charlie had been watching my frantic texting over the last few minutes, and when I slammed my phone down on the coffee table with a curse, he raised his eyebrows. "Problems?"

"Yeah," I replied, grabbing my phone back off the table. "Do me a favor? Call Paul and Seth. Sue's got their numbers. Tell them to phase and start following me."

My groin protested as I stood up and moved toward the door, pulling my T-shirt off over my head.

"Where are you going?" Charlie called after me.

"Ness went after Leah. They're moving north. From the sound of it, they're halfway to the Yukon by now."

Charlie's face blanched white behind his dark mustache. "Shit! Why would she do something that stupid?"

"You can ask her that when I bring her back."

I stepped out onto the front porch and finished shucking my clothes. I wadded them up and jammed them along with my cell phone into the drawstring bag I used to carry stuff as a wolf. Naked, I raced to the trees and phased.

SSW/SSW/SSW

I'd been hoping that I'd be able to make contact with Leah in wolf form. Hoping I'd be able to talk some sense into her. I'd even considered giving her an Alpha command to stay where she was. I'd never used "the voice" on her before, but I figured she deserved it now after her crotch-punching stunt and disobeying a direct order.

But when I phased and began running north, I couldn't hear her. Embry and Quil's minds were there, rumbling around, begging me to let them follow. But there wasn't even a hint of Leah's acidic mind voice.

My heart plummeted like an anvil pushed off a cliff in some stupid Saturday morning cartoon. Except there wasn't anything funny about the implications of why I couldn't hear Leah. There were only two explanations.

Either she had managed to run more than three hundred miles—the limit of the pack mind's range— or…she was dead. Since Nessie had seemed confident that she was on Leah's trail, I had to believe the former. I reminded myself again that Leah was fast. And highly motivated. It was entirely possible she'd gotten that far in less than two hours.

Quil's voice elbowed aside my internal monologue. _Jake, we're ready man. We'll catch up with you. We won't slow you down. _

_No,_ I fired back. _I need you to maintain your patrol around the rez and Forks. Charlie's trying to reach Paul and Seth. _

I knew I could use their help, but I still dreaded bringing Bella and Edward into the situation. Still, they'd be even more pissed at me if they found out later that their daughter had been in jeopardy and I'd kept it from them. Plus, I was pretty sure Charlie would tell them if I didn't first. And if that meant two more sets of super-powered hands and senses in this rescue mission, all the better. I'd take my licks from my future in-laws when Ness was safely back in our arms.

I pounded through the forest, eating up acres of woodland in great, rolling strides. I didn't really need the connection to Leah to track her and Renesmee. My bond with my imprint would pull me toward her and Leah as surely as my beta was being drawn to her imprint. Nessie's scent also helped. I'd been living with that heavenly aroma in my head from the moment she was born; I could never mistake it and would never lose its trail.

I did lose track of time, though. It's the hardest thing about being a wolf. Animals have an internal clock that follows the sun and moon, but they don't really have a time sense like humans do. Neither did I, when I was in wolf form. I only had "now." What's in front of you, under your paws or tickling your nose is what's important. When Seth and Paul finally popped into my head, I wasn't sure how long I'd been running.

_What the fuck, Paul?_ I blasted my anger through the pack mind and felt Paul's mental cringe. _You left Nahuel alone against direct orders!_

Paul's guilt would have been gratifying if I weren't so worried about Renesmee and Leah. _I didn't want to, but he asked me to go, Jake!_

_So what? You couldn't say no?_ I wasn't letting go of this until Paul showed belly.

_I tried to, but he wanted some privacy. _Embarrassment overlaid his guilt. _I figured he was planning to … uh … surprise Leah when she got home._

Leave it to Paul to read something sexual into the situation.

_I don't care if he TOLD you he was going to hump her on the living room floor in front of you, your orders were to guard him until Leah got back._

Seth had been silent until now, but he couldn't let that mental image go by unchallenged. _Guys, c'mon! You're talking about my sister!_

_Stow it, Seth,_ I shot back. _You have no room to talk._ _You think it's not uncomfortable for everyone around you for you to have your tongue down Anjali's throat all the time?_

Their stunned silence told me I'd gone too far.

_Shit. I'm sorry guys._

Seemed like I was doing a lot of apologizing today. How was that fair when I was the one who'd gotten slugged in the crotch?

_I'm stressed and worried and my balls hurt like a sonofabitch. How far are you behind me?_

_We got a little delayed while the Cullens decided who should go with us,_ Paul replied. _Emmett and Jasper won the toss, but only because Bella and Edward were in Seattle. They'll follow us when they get back to Forks._

I'd been so busy ragging on Paul that I hadn't even thought to ask if they were bringing vampire reinforcements. I was intensely grateful they'd thought of it because I'd been in such a hurry to go after Renesmee that it hadn't even occurred to me. _Christ, I'm as bad as Leah._

Paul interrupted my mental face-smacking_. Don't beat yourself up, man. We get it. I'd have socked you in the nutsack, too, if you tried to keep me from going after Rach._

_Thanks. I think. Look I don't know how far you guys are behind me, but we're probably going to lose contact for a while at some point._

Seth radiated worry. _They've gone that far already?_

_Yeah. Actually, I'm pretty far off too. I haven't recognized any of this terrain for a while._

Renesmee's trail had been leading me due north, the direction she'd said she was taking to follow Leah. While Nessie's scent still hovered, potent and compelling, along the forest floor, my beta's was significantly fainter. Leah must be running flat out. Nahuel's scent and two strange ones that I assumed belonged to his kidnappers were barely detectable.

_Look, guys, I really need to focus if I'm going to catch them. I'll try to keep in touch as long as possible, but at some point I'm going to lose you. _

_Man, we gotta get a service provider with better coverage,_ Paul joked.

I appreciated his effort to lighten the mood, but my head wasn't in a place for it. Instead, I pushed my pack brothers' thoughts to the back of my mind and concentrated on where I was going. I needed to pay attention to my location while also following Renesmee's pull.

I was well into British Columbia, and I knew there were some decent-sized towns before you got to the wilderness, where there was literally nothing but a lot of trees, snow and elk. But the trail didn't go near any human settlements. Whoever had taken Nahuel was the one who'd established the trail that Leah, then Ness, and now me, followed. It made sense that they were steering clear of humans, but I had to wonder where they were going.

The farther north I ran, the fainter Seth and Paul's thoughts became. By now, the scenery had taken on the look of winter, rather than the autumn we were having in Washington. Bare tree branches, already dipping low with the season's first snowfall, scraped lightly over my back as I ran.

I told myself the shivers running up my spine had nothing to do with the sense of isolation that was growing with every stride I took. It was the snow melting into my fur, and not the fact that I'd never felt truly alone since Renesmee was born, that had my stomach quivering. The thought of my imprint, apart from me, alone, made me run even faster.

When my connection with my pack brothers finally broke, I heard and felt the snap in my head. I knew the limit of our pack connection through my shared memories of Sam testing that limit years ago. But experiencing it first-hand was profoundly disturbing. I hadn't expected the silence to be so loud and unsettling. I focused on the sound of the wind whistling past my ears as I ran, trying to ignore the ringing quiet around me and in my head.

No matter how fast I ran, or how much I concentrated, I still felt desperation hazing my focus. I couldn't figure it out. I was worried, sure, but the feelings that were building inside me were almost … panicked. I realized they weren't _my_ feelings when my connection to Leah flared to life and her confusion, chaos and terror blasted into my brain.

Leah's emotional turmoil was so potent, even at this distance, that I actually stumbled as I ran. One front paw caught on a gnarled tree root and I went tumbling head over tail across the frosty ground. I paused where I landed, trying to force my beta's panic into a manageable compartment in my brain.

_Leah, stop!_

I started running again.

Brief flashes of shame, regret and guilt edged out her obsessive fear. Then her mind went off in a different direction as she wondered how she should interpret my command—as an order to stop running, or a demand that she get ahold of her emotions. Two seconds later she was thinking about how silky and perfect Nahuel's hair felt when she ran her fingers through it.

She was totally off the deep end.

_Stop running. Calm down._

This time, when it was clear she wouldn't obey me, I didn't hesitate. I Alpha'd her ass.

_STOP. RUNNING. NOW._

Her shock and frustration echoed loudly in my head, but I didn't feel guilty at all.

Years ago, when I'd defied Sam and vowed I'd never take someone's will from them as he'd tried to take mine, I'd been nothing more than an ignorant pup. Oh, I'd been right to challenge Sam, because he'd been wrong. His error would have made our pack the worst kind of murderers. But I'd had no clue then that there would be times when my responsibility as an Alpha would mean taking on the burden of decision-making for a pack mate who was in no shape to decide for herself. Leah was putting me in that place, right now.

I felt her grind to a halt. Saw in my head the forest whirling around her as she turned in tight circles, helpless to resist my Alpha command. She wasn't running, but she still wasn't coherent either, and I needed her to get her shit together.

I mentally slapped her again. _Be still. Calm down._

Her angry whine crawled along the connection, and I could feel her struggling to organize her thoughts enough to protest.

_Let me go! I've found him!_

_Show me,_ I commanded.

She flooded my mind with bedlam, layers of impressions, sights, scents, sounds. And overlaying all of it … fear. Desperation.

Those feelings were obscuring the facts. Ruthlessly, I began poking around in her head, sifting through the mess, looking for real information about her current location and situation. When I found what I needed, I pushed her tangle of emotion beneath the surface of the pack consciousness, forcing her to separate from it.

It wasn't easy and I wasn't gentle about it. Leah let me know in no uncertain terms that she felt invaded while I did it.

_You shit_, she seethed at me.

'_Scuse me, Miss Crotch-puncher._

Guilt flared again, strong enough this time to pull her thoughts into more coherent focus.

_I'm sorry. Really sorry. But I had to do it. You weren't going to let me go._

_Damn right. And this is why. You're alone in the middle of nowhere with no help. You've found Nahuel and you have no way to rescue him alone. Plus, Ness is out here, too, because she followed you when I couldn't._

With the worst of her hysteria under my mental lockdown, Leah was able to turn her attention to something she'd been ignoring for hours—the scent and sound of Renesmee approaching.

_Shit, she's almost here and I had no idea she was behind me. Why the hell did she follow me? _

I'd been asking myself the same question as I ran. I knew my pissy treatment of Nessie was partly to blame, but I just couldn't believe a lover's spat would be enough to inspire her to run into danger this way. We were going to have a long, detailed conversation as soon as I caught up with her and Leah.

Through Leah's eyes, I saw Renesmee appear through the dense forest of bare branches and the occasional evergreen. Her eyes were trained on Leah as she approached. She never paused as she strode right up to Leah, cocked her little fist back and belted my immobilized beta right across her wolfy jaw.

Leah reeled in shock and pain, but thanks to my Alpha command she couldn't even stagger backward, let alone take a snap at Nessie. She snarled a low growl in her throat but kept her position on the ground, glaring up at my imprint.

Renesmee's beautiful chocolate eyes were hard with fury. "That is for what you did to Jake," she declared. "I still owe you one more for leading me on this wild goose chase."

She stepped back from Leah and dropped down to sit on the snow-dusted ground. "I take it, since you're not still running and not going for my throat right now, that Jake's in range."

_Guess I deserved that._ Leah's thoughts sizzled with resentment, but underneath was grudging respect. Impatience and fear were starting to claw their way over the wall of calm I'd forced on her, and Leah could barely spare a moment to give Renesmee a low, affirmative huff.

"Well, while you were sitting here having your mental toe-to-toe with Jake, I scouted the area," Ness said, knowing that I'd be able to hear her through my link to Leah. She gestured to a high ridge of trees behind Leah's shoulder. "I'm sure you already know that Nahuel is somewhere just over that ridge. I spotted a structure. Looks like it might be an abandoned camp of some kind. Nahuel's trail leads there. There were at least two others, one full vampire, one hybrid, with him on the trail here, but I can't be sure who's in there now."

_If you want to phase to tell her I'm not far, that would be fine._

_Yeah, I don't think so, chief. If I'm stuck sitting here, wasting time until you get here, fucked if I'm going to do it without fur to keep my ass dry. _

I couldn't help my mental chuckle. Leah didn't see the humor, though.

_Laugh it up, asshole. God only knows what's happening to Nahuel while we sit here waiting for you. _

That thought pushed her panic back up over the calm wall. In my mind's eye, I saw that wall begin to bulge in the middle, like a dam trying to hold back flood waters. Unbelievably, Leah stood up and began to pace back and forth at the base of the rise. A chill crept up my spine. She shouldn't be able to move at all.

_Sit your ass back down, _I ordered.

She ignored me completely, now turning her attention inward to explore that bright band of energy that tied her to her imprint. I knew everything there was to know about that band; I'd lived with my own version of it for six years.

When all was well with your imprint, that cable was a glowing, warm ribbon of comfort and affection, and it pulsed with a white light more pure than a nun's dreams. Through Leah's awareness, I could see that her tether to Nahuel was streaked with crimson, and instead of comfort, it radiated pain, fear and desolation.

There was only one way to interpret those signs, and we both knew it: Nahuel was in trouble. Big trouble. And he was on the verge of giving up.

That thought leaked out of my mind and whipped through our pack link before I could squelch it. And it was like someone had gouged Leah in the ass with a red-hot poker. She was over the ridge and racing toward Nahuel's scent in an instant.

_No!_ I roared at her, throwing every ounce of Alpha authority I had into my command. _I order you to stop where you are._

Leah paused for only an instant. _I'm sorry, Jake. I have no choice._

Then Leah did the impossible. She defied my command and kept running.

And she snapped our connection like a dry, dead twig.

* * *

><p><strong><em>End note: <em>**_I'll be posting another outtake soon, so if you don't want to miss it, you might want to put me on author alert. What scenes would you like to see from Nahuel's POV? Other than the lemons, of course. Let me know and I'll work your ideas into future outtakes. _


	22. Survive

_**A/N: **__My apologies for the delay in getting this chapter up. I wrestled with this one and really wanted to get it right._

_Part of the reason this chapter was delayed is that it's a rough ride. It was difficult to write and some of you might find it difficult to read. Fair warning that there is graphic violence ahead, some of it sexual in nature. If these things are triggers for you, or if you're just not feeling particularly strong today, you may want to pass on this chapter. I'll add a brief, toned down summary of this chapter in the Author's Note for chapter 23, so you won't miss anything if you don't want to read this one._

_Thanks as always to those loveliest of ladies, MunkeeRajah and Evelyn-Shaye._

_Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer and she'd never treat her characters the way I'm about to in this chapter! _

* * *

><p>Chapter 22 – Survive<p>

**Leah POV**

I'd once read a bumper sticker that said: "The difficult we do at once. The impossible takes a bit longer."

Funny the stupid shit that rattles around in your brain during moments of extreme stress. Rationally, it made no sense at all for that bastardization of a Billie Holiday lyric to be on my mind as I charged over the crest that separated me from my imprint.

On the other hand, it made complete sense.

Since I first clapped eyes on Nahuel in the Cullens' living room two months ago, my life had been full of impossibilities turned into reality. Hell, _we _were impossible—a female, shape-shifting Quileute werewolf and her half-vampire, half-human imprint. We were two broken, miserable mythical creatures from opposite ends of the world who'd somehow come together and recognized the missing halves of our souls in each other.

What were the odds?

Probably better than the ones I was facing right now, trying to rescue Nahuel by myself.

The first time I remember my dad telling me that "nothing is impossible," I was six and crying my heart out because an older playmate had laughed at my dream of growing up to be the world's first Native American, tennis pro, rock star princess. The last time he said it to me was the night I found out that my then-fiancé could turn into a giant wolf.

By the time I began phasing, too, Dad wasn't around to remind me again that life is full of impossible realities. Until Nahuel crashed into my life, I'd all but convinced myself to forget the lesson.

Every single Quileute legend I'd ever heard about my shape-shifting forefathers claimed it was impossible for wolves to disobey an order from their Alpha. When Jake did exactly that six years ago, everyone assumed he was able to defy Sam because Jacob was Ephraim Black's rightful heir. No one—least of all me—would have imagined that any other pack member could have the strength of will to do it, too. Even when Seth and I defected from Sam's pack to Jake's, we'd done it behind Sam's back because we'd been certain he could have stopped us with a single command.

I shouldn't have been able to disobey Jake. Shouldn't have been able to sever our pack link and silence his demands that I wait for him before attempting to save Nahuel. I should be pinned to the forest floor, and under Jacob's control, right now.

Separated from the pack mind, I should be drowning in the oppressive quiet inside my head, _not_ hearing the whispers of another mental voice—one I'd never heard before, but instantly recognized—slowly filling the silence.

The voice started out as an incoherent moan that rose and fell before it gained strength and speed. Abruptly, it resolved into two distinct, sobbing syllables that repeated over and over.

… _leahleahleahleahleahleahleah …_

It should be impossible for me to _hear_ my suffering imprint's anguished mental plea. But it filled my head, reverberated down my spine, and rippled in waves of agony through every bone in my body.

Beneath that heartbreaking moan, I caught the faintest whisper of my father's voice, reminding me again that "nothing is impossible."

I sank my claws into that belief and held on for all I was worth.

And while it should also be impossible that hearing Nahuel's pain and fear would soothe me in any way, it did. This confirmation that he was not only alive, but calling for me, broke the cloud of panic that I'd been running under for hours.

Calm—as comforting and peaceful as an empty church—settled over me. For the first time since I'd found my imprint gone from my home, I began to actually _think_ about what I needed to do to get him back.

Waiting for Jake was still not an option, especially given the urgency of Nahuel's mental plea. But I couldn't just go rushing into the ramshackle structure ahead of me, either. I slowed my run and halted in the scrubby underbrush where the forest gave way to a long, narrow clearing.

Looking. Listening. Sniffing the air.

Nothing.

I saw, heard and smelled nothing. Not even Renesmee pursuing me, which was pretty weird if I took the time to think about it. I didn't. I had more important things to consider.

The building before me looked like it could have been someone's idea of a barn at some point in its existence. A huge, gaping opening in the near side of the building was apparently where the door had once been, but it was long gone. The roof above the door had partially collapsed into the structure, creating a dark, ragged hole that made me think of the cold black eyes of a dead animal. A series of smaller, tumbled piles of weathered wood surrounded the central structure, suggesting this might have been some kind of camp or compound. It looked like it had been decades since anyone inhabited this place, maybe decades since anyone else had even seen it.

Emanating from that beaten up barn was the only strong scent I could perceive: Nahuel. Buried under his cinnamon and spice scent was the revolting odor of vampire—one, maybe two. It was hard to tell since the scents were hours old, unfamiliar and masked by the earthy aromas of old, moldy wood and the surrounding forest. The faintness of the vampire stench was a pretty good indication that there were none in the immediate area.

Had his vampire kidnappers stashed Nahuel in that building and simply left him there? Why? Why take him and then leave him? It didn't make sense, unless it was a trap. It sure stank like a set-up, but that wouldn't keep me away. I'd just need to be even more cautious.

There was no way I was going to run in the open any longer than I had to, so I began moving just inside the tree line. By skirting the edge of the clearing, I could get closer to the building before I had to dash into the open toward the yawning maw of the doorway. I wanted to minimize my exposure as much as possible.

It took only a few minutes of quiet, measured movement to reach the narrowest point of the clearing, where the trees were just a few hundred feet from the side of the building. The surrounding forest was eerily quiet, and the air felt thick and charged with threat. Still, I couldn't detect any being—living or undead—other than Nahuel and me.

This close to the barn, I could actually hear his heartbeat, strong, steady and fast—and nearly loud enough to drown out the ceaseless whimper of my name. Overlaying his rich, sweet scent was the sharp, metallic odor of fresh blood.

Knowing he was hurt made me want to rip apart the first vampire I could find, but I was still less worried about his physical state than his mental one. Half-vamps were sturdy creatures, and I was confident Carlisle could patch up any physical injuries he might have. I was more worried about potential emotional wounds. My greatest fear now was that the trauma of being kidnapped would cause Nahuel to revert to the damaged, shut-down condition he'd been in when he first arrived in Forks.

After pausing a few more moments to listen and sniff the air, I plunged into the clearing, streaking across the unblemished snow. In seconds, I was pressed against the age-silvered wooden side of the building. I paused again, waiting to see if my mad dash had been noticed by anyone or anything. When no blood-thirsty vampires immediately appeared to rip my throat out, I began edging along the wall toward the door.

… _leahleahleahleahleahleahleah …_

By now, Nahuel should be able to hear and smell my presence from inside the building. Yet his prolonged mental moan never wavered in pitch, tone or persistence. There was no indication that he registered my nearness at all.

Biting cold seeped through my veins, and it had nothing at all to do with the snow I crouched in.

Soon, I reached the door, and the urge to simply leap inside and run to Nahuel was nearly overwhelming. I fought it down. My werewolf eyes would need only a few seconds to adjust to the transition from snow-bright outdoors to the barn's dimly lit interior, but in those moments I would be blind and vulnerable. I needed to be absolutely sure no one else was in there before I exposed myself to those seconds of helplessness.

I paused again, reaching out with all my wolf senses. When I'd assured myself that we were still alone, I slinked quickly around the corner of the door and immediately moved to put the wall at my back.

My heart pounded painfully while I waited for my eyes to adjust. One thunderous beat. Two. Three. On the fourth beat, my temporary blindness cleared.

_Oh, God. Oh, my God. Oh, my fucking God._

They staked him.

Some sick fucker had _staked_ him to the barn wall.

Nahuel's beautiful, battered body dangled against the far wall of the barn, his bare feet grazing the dirt floor below. His blood-covered arms were stretched wide, pulling the muscles in his chest and shoulders tight. A thick, long metal spike pierced through each muscled forearm close to the elbow joint, pinning him to the wall like an insect. The weight of his limp body had pulled on the wounds, causing flesh and muscle to tear and gap. Bright bone glistened through the blood and gore.

His head drooped so low on his naked, grime-streaked chest that I couldn't see his face, couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not. He breathed in shallow, strained pants that must have pulled painfully on his arms, but he made not a sound. Not a whimper. And he gave no indication at all that he realized I was there.

Nausea slammed into me, driving the air from my lungs and forcing burning bile up my throat. The dark shadows in the barn began to spin slowly around me. My legs splayed, my body listed, and my paws skidded in the dirt and debris on the floor. I struggled to stay upright.

But my inner bitch wasn't going to let me escape this horror by slipping into unconsciousness.

_Oh, no, you goddamn pussy! _She growled at me. _You are NOT going to pass out like some fucking high school girl who faints at the sight of blood. Nahuel needs you. Get your shit together! _

When I wavered, still teetering on the edge of oblivion, that voice escalated to a shout.

_NOW! Get your shit together NOW!_

It was the bitch-slap I needed to reclaim my equilibrium.

I pulled my legs back under me, snorted the cloying smell of blood from my nostrils, and ruthlessly shoved the screaming, hysterical schoolgirl into a dark, tiny compartment in my mind. When Nahuel was free, when we were both away from here and safe, I'd have to let her out and deal with her bullshit. But for now, I needed to yield complete control to the cast iron, ice-cold she-wolf.

The human girl had wanted to phase and throw her arms around Nahuel the moment she saw him. While the wolf acknowledged that she would need human hands to free him, and a human voice to reach him in whatever isolated, remote place his mind had fled to, she wasn't eager to give up the protection of my animal shape. At least not without thoroughly assessing the situation first.

I forced my eyes away from my imprint. Holding my position near the barn doorway, I quickly inspected the interior of the barn. Dirt floor. Watery sunlight leaking in through cracks and holes in the weather-beaten wooden walls. Some unidentifiable bits of metal and splintered planks scattered on the floor. Rusted chains and mangle, misshapen masses of metal that might once have been some kind of hand tools hanging on three of the four walls.

Nahuel occupying the fourth.

_Don't even think about fainting, you stupid cow._

The cavernous structure was silent, still and empty—save for Nahuel and me. I stepped away from the wall, closed my eyes and focused my awareness on coaxing my energy back into my body. It was always easier to go from human to wolf. Dropping the extra mass, shifting fur back to skin, and paws to hands and feet required a few seconds of actual concentration.

As I phased, Nahuel's mental cry faded into silence in my head.

When I was human again—naked, vulnerable, exposed—I moved quickly across the floor, unsure of how much time I had before his kidnappers might return. Two months ago, when I didn't really know him, I might have hesitated. I probably wouldn't have touched him or approached him at all, afraid that he might lash out at me. But he was _my_ Nahuel, now, and I had no fear that he would ever hurt me, no matter what hell he'd gone through.

For all my confidence, my hands still trembled when I cupped them beneath his jaw. With gentle pressure, I raised his head so I could see his face. My strength and resolve wavered at what I saw there.

"Oh, baby …."

Bruises and lacerations—so brutal it hurt to look at them—marred his perfect face. His beautiful eyes were open but unfocused, hollow and blank. I didn't know what he was looking at, what he was seeing through those dead, empty eyes, but it wasn't me.

"Baby, look at me," I pleaded. I gave his head a gentle shake, but the movement stirred no ripple in the glassy flatness of his eyes. I kissed his cracked, bloodied lips, but his mouth remained slack and immobile.

"Nahuel, I'm here. Look at me!" A ragged sob tore from my throat. "Please, baby. I can't get you down alone. You need to help me. Please!"

Terror scampered up my spine. It was more intense than any fear I'd ever felt before, even when I'd stood in the doorway of my mother's home and realized Nahuel was missing. Then, I'd thought I had a good chance of finding him, and maybe saving him. I knew I could track him. Fight whoever had taken him. Bring him home.

But now I didn't know if I could find him, wherever he'd gone to hide inside himself. I could only think of one way to try, so I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated on that precious, wonderful psychic cable. I found it immediately, pulsing strongly between us. Relief and the seeds of hope sent my awareness rushing down that connection.

It was like riding a roller coaster of pure light, dipping down between us and soaring up toward a crest … just before plummeting into complete blackness. I halted at the peak. If I plunged into that darkness with Nahuel, would I ever find my way back?

I didn't know. I wasted agonized seconds trying to decide what to do.

The decision was made for me when a hard, cold missile slammed into my back, ramming me full-length against Nahuel's bloodied form. My awareness snapped outward and it took my mind less than a second to realize what had happened.

An icy hand gripped both my wrists, dragging them down to the small of my back. Rough cloth abraded the skin of my back, ass and thighs, and arctic breath slithered against the back of my neck. I was sandwiched in helpless human form between the hot, battered body of my imprint and the powerful, frigid form of the vampire behind me. Released from my hands, Nahuel's head lolled lifelessly again, dropping down to rest on my left shoulder.

I'd let my guard down and my attention wander like a yearling pup, and I'd had no idea that I was no longer alone with my imprint until it was far too late. Now, there was no way I could escape the vampire's powerful grip in my human form, and I couldn't phase to wolf form while my skin was in contact with Nahuel's.

Unless help miraculously appeared in the next few minutes, I was well and truly fucked.

"Well, what have we here?"

The lush tenor was as smooth as top shelf whiskey, with a bayou twang that reminded me of Dennis Quaid's character in "The Big Easy." It might have struck me as sexy—if I didn't know that it belonged to a stone-cold killer.

I couldn't do much but squirm desperately. Although the hand on my wrists tightened, he seemed more amused than concerned by my struggles. His other hand came up to drag my hair away from my face, in a revolting mockery of a tender caress.

I couldn't turn my head enough to see his face, but I was acutely aware of his long, muscular form crushing me so tightly that I could barely draw breath. For the first time since I'd become a werewolf, I felt small and helpless.

And I realized that if this vampire was who I _thought_ he was … I was _beyond_ fucked.

"What a succulent little morsel you are," he sniggered in my right ear. "You must be the shape-shifter bitch I've heard _so_ much about. You stink worse than a flooded kennel full of dead dogs, but what a _lovely_ ass you have."

_Heard? About me? From who?_ I wondered wildly. This was why he was keeping me pressed up against Nahuel, I realized. He _knew_ I couldn't risk phasing while in physical contact with my imprint. But how did he know?

I quit struggling to get away; it was fruitless and I would be better off conserving my energy. Now I was focused on craning my neck enough to get even a glimpse of my attacker.

"Nahuel _said_ you'd come for him," he drawled, making my imprint's name sound like it rhymed with "y'all." His icy tongue licked the rim of my earlobe. My gorge rose in heaves that were dry and futile; I was grateful that my stomach had been empty for hours. "Imagine that! The pathetic half-breed loser was actually right about something for a change."

Fury scorched through my veins and a red haze clouded my vision. "Are you the fucker who did this to him?" I growled.

He laughed again. "Oh, no. Joham took care of that himself. He's _really_ disappointed with his baby boy. And the big guy does _not_ handle disappointment well, a'tall."

It was stupid to feel relief that this vampire was _not_ Joham, but I allowed myself to savor the momentary feeling. I knew it was probably useless, but I couldn't halt the questions that spilled out of my trembling lips.

"Why did you take him? What are you going to do with him?"

With a deft move, he dragged my hands lower and rammed himself against me harder. Now my hands were pinned between my body and his—more specifically, a part of his body I did _not_ want to think about. With his right hand, he continued to toy with my hair, while his newly liberated left hand went exploring. When it closed over my breast and squeezed painfully, I couldn't control my whimper.

"I wouldn't worry about him so much, sweet thing," he laughed, grinding something long, hard and horrible against my ass. "His daddy'll take care of him. I'm just hoping Joham won't mind if _I_ take care of _you_. At least until he's ready for you."

Just my fucking _luck_ that I would get the only vampire on the planet whose lust for human snatch outweighed his blood lust.

His right hand left my hair, and I felt it moving behind my ass, shifting rough fabric, pushing it out of the way.

"Don't worry, sweetness, I won't hurt ya much," he panted excitedly. "I got experience with you fragile types. I can control myself just fine, and I know just what to do to fill that pretty little belly of yours."

When he uttered the word "belly," the hand that had been pawing my breast moved south, gouging between Nahuel's limp body and mine. It dipped lower, until thick, icy fingers paused over my abdomen.

_Where the fuck is Jake? _

But I knew the answer, even as my mind shrieked the question. I'd cut my connection to Jacob, making it harder for him to find me. I'd disobeyed a direct order, one that the reasonable part of my brain had known made perfect sense, even as I'd defied him.

I was naked, defenseless, alone and totally at the mercy of an insane, horny vampire. And I had no one to blame but myself.

I clamped my jaws down on my scream, knowing it would only arouse him more. My every instinct howled at me to struggle, to fight back. But with that hand hovering inches above my crotch and his vile dick pressing against my ass, any movement at all meant I'd just be playing into his hands.

I couldn't do anything to resist him physically, but damned if I'd give in to his attempts at mind-fuckery. I made the only move I could, the only one that could help me. I buried my face in the curve of Nahuel's neck and gulped in huge, desperate breaths of his spicy, sweet scent, ordering my brain to shut down so that I wouldn't feel whatever the horndog parasite was about to do to me.

But what happened next was not at all what I'd been expecting.

The vampire's cold, hard shape went impossibly still behind me. He exhaled sharply, then leaned into me and dragged in a long, loud breath. Sniffing me. The hand on my gut pressed inward painfully.

"Well, fuck me," he muttered, surprise and annoyance clashing in his bedroom voice. "Looks like I'm not the only one who knows what he's doing. Who'da thought the loser half-breed had it in 'im?"

I had no clue what made him pause, but whatever the reason, I was grateful for the reprieve. I dragged my lips along the scorching skin of Nahuel's neck and sobbed in his ear.

"Baby, wake the fuck _up_! I need you. Now!"

Of course, the fucker behind me heard every word as clearly as if I'd babbled them into _his_ foul ear. He roared with laughter.

Abruptly, he gripped the hair at the top of my scalp and wrenched my head backward. I felt something pop at the base of my neck where it bent over his shoulder, and intense, burning pain sizzled down my spine. I gasped, my eyes wide with pain and shock, and finally caught a glimpse of my tormenter. I had a vague impression of pale, freckled skin and a shock of strawberry-blond hair.

"S'okay, sweetness." His dead, frozen lips caressed my cheek. "I ain't too proud to take sloppy seconds. I'll enjoy a fruitless fuck just as much as I would planting one in you."

_What the FUCK is he talking about? What the fuck is he TALKING about? _

He licked down my cheek toward my throat, leaving a burning trail of ice-cold venom. "Maybe I'll have a little sip while I'm at it."

The shivering, terrified high school girl who'd been cowering in her dark corner until now picked that moment to open her mouth and scream.

Maybe I'd have been able to hold it together if I'd thought all he was going to do was rape me. But I totally lost it at the realization that he intended to violate me in _every_ possible way.

I was screaming now. Shrilly, carelessly.

His thighs shoved between mine from behind. I was struggling, squirming, trying desperately to pull away from the icy hardness that was pressing between my spread thighs.

"Nahuel! Help me! Wake the fuck up!"

I'd lived through enough horrible shit to know that the moments in life we would most wish to have pass in a blur are the ones most likely to play out in slow motion. This was definitely one of those moments.

My frantic thrashing dislodged Nahuel's head from my shoulder. I watched, transfixed, as his head lolled back against the wall of the barn. My attacker's teeth grazed the skin of my neck in the exact same moment that I felt his icy dick find its mark and start to push home. It was the same instant in which Nahuel's lifeless, unseeing eyes snapped into blazing focus.

He looked right at me and opened his mouth wide, as if to mirror my screams. Soundlessly, as fast as a striking viper, his head whipped toward me … and he sank his gleaming, perfect teeth into my attacker's face.

I was intimately familiar with the harsh, metallic sound vampire flesh made when it was being ripped apart, but I'd never actually heard a vampire scream in pain before. This one was shrieking louder than my inner school girl. He sounded like he'd be pissing his pants if such a thing were possible for the undead fucker.

Nahuel snarled, shaking his head like a wolf with a jack rabbit in its teeth. Maybe it was the sheer shock of actually facing any resistance at all, or maybe it was the animalistic savagery of the attack itself, but the leech was losing it. He wasn't even trying to fight Nahuel off. Instead, he frantically pulled against my imprint's bite.

And he let go of me.

Thank. You. Jesus.

I dropped straight to the floor between his legs, curled into a ball and somersaulted away from him. Before my body stopped rolling, I'd phased to wolf form. I sprang up onto my hind legs, clamped my jaws around the back of his neck and ripped the bloodsucker away from Nahuel. I tossed his flailing body across the barn, and he slammed into the far wall, bringing down a shower of debris around him.

Credit where it's due, but the fucker recovered quickly. By the time I'd bounded across the barn floor, he was back on his feet and I got my first good look at him. He was tall, lean and built like a swimmer, with a crown of curly red-blond hair and a face that would have been at home on a runway—if half of it hadn't been ripped away by my imprint's bite.

Even if the bastard managed to survive this battle—and I was determined that he wouldn't—that smooth, whisky voice of his would never be heard again. It would be hard for him to call me or anyone else "sweet thing" with half of his jaw torn away. Nahuel's bite had obliterated the right side of the fucker's face from just below one blood-red eye all the way down to his throat.

I launched myself at him, striking the center of his chest with both front paws. I knew I was giving him an opportunity to get his arms around me, but I just couldn't care. And I was certain I had the advantage now that he was injured and afraid.

But the bloodsucker surprised me again, deflecting my blow at the last second and twisting in a serpentine blur. I tumbled snout-first onto the dirt floor, and in the next instant, he was on my back, his arms and legs wound around my body. There was no way he could bite me with half his face missing, but he could still crush my bones and rip my hide—and that's exactly what he intended to do.

I was back in the shit again, and he knew it. Snarling and yelping, I twisted my spine, trying to snap at the hands that were slowly crushing me. I threw my weight backward, rolling him beneath me. We tumbled across the floor, slamming against the same patch of wall where I'd tossed him before. The wall gave way and we bashed through it, out into the snow.

Somehow, I ended up beneath him again, and this time he had one arm wrapped tight around my throat. With the other hand, he forced my head forward. He was either going to crush my windpipe or pop my head off.

_NOW you're fucked_, my inner bitch snapped, disgusted that I'd apparently seized defeat from the jaws of victory.

_Yeah, I know, but at least he's not going to stick his dick into me while I'm a wolf. Death before dishonor._

Distantly, behind me, I heard Nahuel's pain-filled roar.

_I'm so sorry, baby. I fucked up._

Darkness curled up the edges of my vision.

Suddenly the pressure on my neck and head released. A high-pitched squeal pierced my brain from behind. Something hard, heavy and roughly the size of a large cantaloupe bounced off my shoulder and tumbled to the ground in front of me.

For a moment, I couldn't process what I was seeing. Couldn't explain what was in the snow in front of me: The disfigured face and wide, shocked eyes of the rapist vampire stared up at me sightlessly.

Pain screaming down my spine, I whipped around.

Nahuel stood over the decapitated body of his kidnapper. His bloodied, mangled arms dangled at his sides. His entire body shook so violently that I'd have called it a seizure if it weren't for the fact that he was on his feet and his eyes were wide open. His head jerked repeatedly to the left in tiny, heartbreaking circles, like the involuntary movements a toddler makes coming down off the end of a core-dump tantrum.

He swayed on his feet for a few seconds before his knees suddenly buckled.

I was in human form, catching him in my arms, before his body hit the ground.

I knew Nahuel's trembling was caused by a combination of shock and pain, and that there wasn't a whole hell of a lot I could do about either without Carlisle's help. Remembering the ominous pop I'd felt when the leech had yanked my head back, I realized I probably needed to see the doc pronto, too. The adrenalin still pounding through my veins was masking the worst of my pain, but the tingling numbness spreading through my fingers and toes was worrisome.

It must have hurt like hell, but Nahuel wrapped his battered, blood-slicked arms around me in a crushing grip. Clearly, he had no plans to let go any time soon, and I was fine with that.

"Ñi piuque," he breathed into my hair, his voice amazingly calm. "I knew you would come."

My heart leaped joyfully that he was still capable of speech, that his mind had survived the torture and terror of this day.

I pulled back enough to see his face. Beneath the blood and bruises, his expression was serene, his eyes free of fear. Stroking a few blood-tipped strands of dark hair away from his face, I gently kissed his bruised and split lips.

My dad, who'd been right about so many things, had been fundamentally wrong about just one. There was one thing that I now knew was completely, irrevocably beyond the realm of possibility.

It was simply impossible that I could ever again live without Nahuel.

"Of course," I whispered against his lips. "I'll always come for you. You are my heart."


	23. Slip Away

_**A/N: **__Thanks to everyone who forgave me for the really nasty things I did to Leah and Nahuel in the last chapter. For those who heeded my warning and opted not to read it, I've included a brief summary at the end of this note._

_Thanks to my bodacious betas Evelyn-Shaye and MunkeeRajah, both of whom have already seen BD1. If ours were not a bi-coastal trio, I'd have demanded we see it together! As it is, I'll have to settle for seeing it with DH, who will only be attending because he loves me, not because he loves Edward, Bella, et al. Sad, I know – but it's really his only flaw. _

_Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, and I'm sure she's very happy about that right now!_

_**Chapter 22 Summary – **__After breaking her pack link to Jake, Leah enters the building where she senses Nahuel is being held. He is there, horrifically restrained and totally out of it. While she's trying to wake him up so they can escape, she's attacked from behind by one of Joham's minions. He traps her against Nahuel's body to prevent her from phasing while he assaults her. Nahuel wakes up in the nick of time, breaks free and dispatches the evil vampire. The chapter concludes with both Leah and Nahuel injured, but happy to be reunited._

* * *

><p>Chapter 23 – Slip Away<p>

**Leah POV**

Running. We'd been running. And now … we weren't.

_Why aren't we moving?_

"Stay still, Lee_-_lee." Seth, shaky and unsure, using that nickname I hated. Annoyance pushed my awareness up out of the fog.

_Oh, yeah, that's right. I can't move. Hurts too fucking much._

Someone had dissected my spine, drained it of fluid and packed the cavity with pissed-off fire ants. It was the only explanation for the searing strands of pain running down my back.

The cold numbness in my extremities, though … _that_ I couldn't explain. Maybe I'd fallen asleep in front of the open freezer door. Again. _Yeah, that must be it. I know a wonderful way to warm up …._

"Nahuel?"

"I am here, my heart." Worry and pain in his satin-and-smoke voice.

"Hold me, baby." I meant it to be a sexy coo. Instead, it came out sounding papery and pathetic. "I'm cold, and you're warm. Soooo warm …."

An anguished moan. "I cannot. You are injured. You must not move."

"Why couldn't we hear her? We should have been able to hear her long before she got to this point."

Paul? What was Paul doing in my kitchen?

"Get the hell out of my freezer, jackass," I muttered.

"I don't know, man. She's not making sense. Nothing makes sense." My brother's voice.

_Why can't I feel my feet? Where are my fingers?_

"Seth, get Paul out of the kitchen. Fucker's going to eat everything."

Laughter. Loud, obnoxious guffaws.

_Emmett?_

Surprised by his presence in my kitchen, I cracked my eyes open.

I wasn't home. I was on my side in the snow, surrounded by towering trees and five pairs of worried eyes. I was wearing nothing but a damp T-shirt that was about six sizes too big—Seth's. Nahuel and my brother were kneeling side by side in front of me. Paul stood behind them. Beyond him were Jasper and Emmett.

_Why are they all looking at me?_

"What's going on? Where's Jake?"

Seth's face blanched. "We were hoping _you_ knew."

I tried to shake my head. The fire ants went from pissed off to ballistic. Apparently, they'd also gnawed their way to my lungs and punched a few holes, because I couldn't get a decent breath.

"How would I know?"

Seth's eyes were huge and damp and _frightened_. It freaked me out. My baby brother was always too happy to be afraid. Of anything.

"Seth, you're scaring me. What's going on?"

"Leah, do you remember anything?" He sounded like he was pleading with me, begging for something he wasn't sure I could give him. "Do you remember finding Nahuel? Fighting? Getting hurt? Getting away?"

I remembered. I was pretty sure I'd never be able to forget. Not even the parts that I'd give my left ovary to wipe from my memory.

"Course I remember," I mumbled, irritated.

It was the afterwards that I wasn't clear on. My mind spun in tiny, erratic circles before settling on a worrisome bit of minutiae.

"We couldn't burn the body," I blurted. "No matches."

Nahuel's long warm fingers stroked gently, lightly from my shoulder to my elbow, then back again in a soothing loop.

"We buried the pieces in seven separate locations. It was the best we could do." He looked at Seth.

"We ran for a while. Then we walked when Leah's pain became too great to run. Eventually we had to stop walking, too."

Seth dropped his head for a moment and rubbed the back of his neck. When he looked up again, his eyes were strained and desperate. "Did you see any sign of Jake or Nessie?"

"I … I don't remember …." I looked to Nahuel for help. He gave me a strained smile, full of effort and pain, and continued stroking my arm.

"None," he said. "But I did not know to look for signs at the time. It is possible I missed something."

I gasped, and the sharp intake of breath set the fire ants dancing like they were grooving to the world's hottest Mariachi band. I got just enough breath to whisper.

"Are you saying Jake and Renesmee are missing?"

Five pairs of eyes all trained on anything but mine. Five silent mouths. Did no one have the balls to tell me?

_Gutless wonders._

I wanted to tear into all five of them. I wanted to tell them to quit dicking around watching me lay on the ground and start looking for my Alpha.

Except he wasn't _my_ Alpha anymore, was he?

I'd cut him off without a second thought when he'd only been trying to protect me from myself. The awfulness of what I'd done, the sheer selfishness of how I'd betrayed my best friend, finally hit me. Guilt swamped me.

I started to sob, which was a really bad idea. The pain in my back now wrapped its fiery talons around my ribs and squeezed. It pinched the breath right out of me. Not that I'd had that much to work with in the first place.

My vision started to get fuzzy, and no matter how I tried, I couldn't bring Seth's face back into focus. After a few seconds, the blurriness faded to full black. Seth's voice, however, was clear and strong in my ears.

"Leah? Leah!"

Paul: "She's zoning out again."

"Dude, she's hurt bad. We gotta get her to Carlisle. Like, _now_." That was Emmett.

"You're not supposed to move people with back injuries, right?" Paul again. "I mean she's probably already made things worse with all the fighting and running she's done."

Seth: "I don't think we have a choice. She's having trouble breathing."

"I will carry her." Nahuel this time.

Jasper, gentle but firm: "Nahuel, you can barely walk yourself. Your arms are in no shape to bear her weight. Does anyone have a cell signal?"

No talking. Rustling of cloth. Faint electronic beeping. Three exasperated sighs.

"All right, I'm making an executive decision, here. Seth and I will run with Leah until we get a signal again and can reach Carlisle. We'll do whatever he tells us at that point. Emmett and Paul, you stay with Nahuel and follow behind us. You'll be going slower, so look for signs of Jake and Nessie on the way."

"I will not stay behind." Nahuel, an edge of defiant panic in his voice. "I must go with her."

Kindness. Calm. Comfort. In Jasper's voice and in my head. "This is best for her, Nahuel. She needs medical attention."

"I … I _beg_ you … do not make me part from her. I cannot … _bear_ it …."

Warm lips on my forehead. Warm drops of moisture splashing on my cheeks.

_Don't cry, baby. Please don't cry. _

A soft whisper from Seth. "I love her too, man. I won't let anything happen to her."

Jasper again. "We'll take care of her. You have my word."

"You have to let go, Nahuel." Emmett's voice, low and amazingly gentle. "They need to get going."

Motion again. Like levitating. Effortless upward motion. So smooth the evil ants barely reacted.

Wind on my face. Cold wind, chilling my cheeks. Every part of me cold. So god-damned cold.

Lifted. Carried.

_Who? Why can't I feel his arms?_

I summoned the last scraps of energy and will I had and forced my eyes open.

Jasper's face glided above me, the forest whipping by behind his golden head in a blur of gray. I could make out the faintest white traces of vampire bite marks on his throat and jaw—the scars that human eyes would miss. I'd never really seen them before because I'd never been this close to him, and I'd never gotten this close because, frankly, his intensity and aura of danger secretly scared the crap out of me.

He realized instantly that my eyes were on him.

"It's alright," he drawled. "I got ya, darlin'."

Though I knew they had nothing more in common than southern-sounding accents and the lack of a pulse, I couldn't stop myself from equating Jasper's voice and cold touch with _his_. Suddenly I was back in that tomb of a barn, imprisoned against cold, dead flesh on one side and hot, dying flesh on the other. I could feel again that frigid hardness seeking entry and the graze of deadly teeth against my throat.

The compulsion to flee, to escape in any way I could, was overpowering. But I couldn't feel my arms or legs to move them. Couldn't make my mouth move to tell Jasper to put me down.

So I did the only thing I _could_ do: I escaped into my own head. I yanked open the hidden door of the school girl's secret closet, shouldered the hysterical bitch out of my way, crawled in … and slammed the door shut behind me.

SSW/SSW/SSW

Loud shouting. Angry voices.

My body was shaking, but it wasn't _me_ making the movement. I was lying on my stomach atop a cloud—a really foul-smelling cloud. The pain was gone and I was toasty warm. The numbness was still there, but it seemed to have spread to my brain, too, so I couldn't find it in me to be worried by it. If it weren't for the damned shaking, I'd actually have felt really comfortable.

Comfortably numb, as a matter of fact. I snickered at my own mental joke.

"… ask you again, where are my children?"

Ah, vampires. That's why my cloud smelled so rank. There were vampires on it with me.

_What? What children? _

"Edward, take your hands off my mate …"

_Mate? Whoa! Where did THAT come from?_

"… or I will forget that your wife is to be her step-sister, and I will remove your hands _for_ you."

Threatening snarls from both Edward and Nahuel. My cloud jostled, but the shaking stopped.

"Leah! Where are Renesmee and Jacob?"

"Edward, this is getting you nowhere." Alice, sounding like she wanted to kick her brother's ass. Damned if I'd want the pixie vampire cheesed at me. "She's got so much painkiller in her system right now that she can't even talk, let alone answer your questions."

"I don't need her to talk," Edward snapped. "I just need her to _think_."

"What is going on here?"

_Oooh, Carlisle sounds peeved. Never heard him mad before. And just how many frickin' vampires are on this cloud, anyway?_

"We need to find out what Leah knows about Jake and Renesmee's disappearance."

"Edward, this is not the time for questioning Leah. I need to realign those dislocated vertebrae and relieve the pressure on her spinal column. Her x-rays show that the damage has already begun to heal incorrectly."

Edward, sounding desperate now. He wasn't going to win against Carlisle and Alice, and he knew it. "Just a minute more, Carlisle. Please! If I can just get her to remember what she knows —"

"Get out of my way." Nahuel, also sounding aggravated. Man, there was a boatload of anger on this cloud.

His sweet cinnamon-and-spice breath caressed my cheek just before his lips brushed my skin.

"Ñi piuque, can you speak to me?"

_Oh yes, baby, I have so much to tell you._

"… luhhvvv ewwww …" Something was really wrong with my tongue. I tried again. "I luff you, Naahh-welll."

"As I love you." His voice twinkled, and I really wished I could open my eyes to see the smile that went along with that sparkle. It would probably melt my panties, even if I were a geriatric nun. I wished we were alone on this lovely cloud, and that I could move. I'd give him plenty to smile about.

"Leah, do you remember that Jacob and Renesmee are missing?"

Yes. Missing. My fault. All my fault.

_They followed me._

I started to cry—pathetic wheezing sobs that were surely soaking my lovely cloud with wolf-girl snot.

_Why did they follow me?_

Behind my closed eyes, I saw again the fury on Renesmee's face when she caught up with me. Felt the throb of her fist on my jaw, so much less than what I _deserved_ for sucker-punching Jake in the balls. Felt Jake's hurt and betrayal at what I'd done to him. Remembered the minutes of ringing silence that followed my decision to break my connection to Jake and the rest of the pack.

It all flooded through my mind … and into Edward's.

"Yes! That's it," he hissed, swallowing the rush of images and emotions that comprised my memories of the past day. Then … "She doesn't know anything. She's not connected to Jacob anymore. She abandoned the pack link. She defied him. I didn't know that was possible."

Seth's voice. Appalled. Hurt. "That's why we couldn't hear her! How, Leah? How could you do that to Jake? To us?"

"That's enough. Everyone out of this room. I need to take care of my patient."

"I will remain, Carlisle."

"No, Nahuel. Your own wounds need attention. Edward and Esme will look after you while I care for Leah."

"I _will_ remain, Carlisle." Adamant.

_He is so fucking hot when he's stubborn. Or angry … or happy … or hungry … or sleepy …._

"Carlisle, there's room enough here for us to work on Nahuel while you take care of Leah." Esme, this time.

I really wished I could open my eyes. I'd have enjoyed watching Nahuel stare down the doc. _Clash of the Titanic Hotties._ I snickered again. I really liked myself stoned. I was as funny as a duck on ice.

"All right, we really don't have time to debate this. Just don't interfere, no matter what. Rosalie, I need your help, please."

"One moment." I felt my cloud dip slightly. And then the delicious, warm electricity of Nahuel's skin was against mine. I couldn't feel all of him. But what I _could_ feel was wonderful. What I could feel was _home_.

"Beloved …"

_Well that's new, too. Do I like it? Not sure._

"… Carlisle needs you to sleep for a while. He will make your back feel better. I will be here with you while you sleep. I will not leave you."

I sighed happily. "Know dat." My cloud shifted again and his wonderful charged skin began to move away from me. "Wait!"

He paused. "Yes?"

"Assshhk ah-ghin."

Confusion in his velvety, rich voice. "Pardon? I do not understand."

I worked my tongue against the back of my teeth, trying to limber it up. "Ask me again," I repeated, more clearly. "I'll say yes."

He chuckled. "I know. I promise that I will. Now sleep."

SSW/SSW/SSW

Heat, delicious sensual heat, stroked down my spine. I arched my back, encouraging his blazing hands to roam my sweat-slicked body. His sweetly scented breath caressed the base of my throat. His clever tongue delved lower, trailing a slow, scorching line of desire down the curve of my breast. When his tongue flicked lightly over my erect nipple, my whole body ignited.

His hands—_Oh god, how I love his hands!_—gripped my hips powerfully, pulling my straining body into position beneath him. I arched again and spread my legs wide, welcoming the stroke I knew was coming. I wanted him. I _craved_ him. More than I'd ever wanted anything.

I whimpered my encouragement.

He laughed, a low, velvety sound. "Patience, ñi piuque."

Heavy and hot, he slid slickly home. Ecstasy. I writhed beneath him, in the grip of that familiar sensation of over-fullness that flirted with near-pain. He stilled within me, giving me time to adjust. Always giving me exactly what I needed—his passion, his warmth, his love.

Slowly, so slowly that it was the most erotic, delightful torture, he began to move. He withdrew his length until he barely remained inside me, before driving forward again with a maddening dip of his hips. Each thrust caressed that incredible spot deep inside me, the one that had remained undiscovered until him, the one that made me see stars, shooting stars, fucking super novae.

And while he moved, his lips whispered against my enflamed skin.

"…love you, Leah, my heart …"

"Love you too, baby," I gasped, my fingers buried in the silky perfection of his hair.

"… so beautiful, so warm. Like fire in my veins …"

"I'm burning for you, baby. Only you."

"… so _sweet_ …"

With that word, his voice changed, the timbre climbing into a higher register. A drawl slithered into his accent. The hair between my fingers turned coarse and curly. His exotic cinnamon and spice scent morphed into something vile and sickening.

"Don't worry, sweetness. I won't hurt ya much."

I wanted to open my mouth to scream, but I couldn't. Wanted to open my eyes to confirm the horrible impossibility my ears and hands were claiming, but my eyes stayed sealed shut.

"Won't Joham be pleased?"

Cold, crushing cold, on top of me, surrounding me … _inside me_.

"So pleased," he crooned. "So pleased when he sees how well I've filled your belly."

My eyes and mouth popped open in the same second, and I wrenched myself into wakefulness. I gasped, dragging in air as my terrified gaze settled on the one sight that could erase the lingering horror of my nightmare: Nahuel, sleeping peacefully beside me.

We were side-by-side, facing each other. His left hand was extended toward me, his fingertips just brushing my arm. His breathing was even and placid.

He was safe. I was safe. We were together.

Calm washed over me. My eyes scanned my surroundings. I didn't recognize the room, but I assumed it must be somewhere in the Cullen mansion, given the fact that everything in it looked designer-made and ridiculously expensive. The bed I lay on with Nahuel sure seemed like the kind of luxury item the world's wealthiest vampires would have in their home. Then, too, there was the overpowering stench of vampire. That was a real give-away as to where we were.

Beyond Nahuel's side of the bed, a wall of windows trickled weak early morning sunlight into the room. How long had I been out of it?

Moving gingerly, I rolled to my back and paused to take inventory. Soreness lingered in my back and neck, but the miserable fucking fire ants were gone, exterminated. I wiggled my toes experimentally. Extended my left hand to lightly touch the bandage on Nahuel's arm. The numbness was gone and everything appeared to be in working order.

Well, everything except my head, because only a seriously fucked-up brain would have regurgitated my sexy dream of two months ago—the night Nahuel had arrived in Forks—in such morbidly twisted detail. I'd never had a dream so vivid or intense in my life.

What the hell was wrong with me? Sure, it had been traumatic, but the horndog leech hadn't succeeded in raping me. Nahuel had killed him. We tore the body to pieces, and buried those bits where the sun would never shine on them again. I wasn't really hurt _then_ and he couldn't hurt me _now_. So why the extreme recreation of our encounter?

Was my subconscious trying to tell me something? Had I missed some important piece of information that bayou boy let slip?

My mind quickly circled back to the one mystery that had nagged at me since the moment Joham's oversexed lackey had attacked me in that barn: How did he know all that he seemed to?

And he'd known a _lot_.

First of all, how did he even know I existed? He hadn't gotten the information from Huilen, because while she'd seen the wolves, she hadn't known specifically about me. I hadn't interacted with her at all after the confrontation with the Volturi six years ago.

He'd known that I wouldn't phase if my body was in contact with Nahuel, which is why he'd held me against my imprint the whole time he attacked me. He'd known Nahuel and I were together, and not only together, but intimate.

What he hadn't known seemed important too. I wasn't stupid; I knew damn well what he'd meant by "taking care of" and "planting one." After all, making evil little half-vampire babies was what Joham and his sick coven were all about. But given how much information he seemed to have about me, it was really weird that he _hadn't_ known I wasn't capable of being part of their twisted breeding program.

I was missing something; I was sure of it. Whether it was the lingering effects of whatever painkillers or anesthesia Carlisle had given me, or if I just wasn't entirely awake yet, I couldn't pin down what it was.

Beside me, Nahuel sighed in his sleep. Instantly, my attention refocused on my imprint. I rolled back to my side, facing him. Was he having a nightmare, too?

I studied his perfect features. The bruises and most of the abrasions on his face were already fading. While his arms were still bandaged, the split in his lips had healed completely, and his mouth was temptingly kissable again. I saw no reason to resist temptation; I wiggled closer on the bed and lightly pressed my mouth to his. He hummed sleepily against my lips.

Of course, there was no way one chaste kiss would ever be enough. He woke fully when I washed my tongue over his delectable lower lip and slid my hand under the waistband of the pajama bottoms he was wearing.

_Where the hell did those come from? I do NOT approve._ Then I realized I appeared to be wearing the top half of the same set of pajamas. _Oh, well that changes my opinion completely._

He chuckled against my lips. "Good morning, ñi piuque. This is a most enjoyable way to awaken."

"I totally agree," I murmured, my fingers creeping toward his enticing ass.

He pulled away slightly to study my face. "Are you well? Carlisle said he was able to repair your injuries, but that you will require rest to fully recuperate."

"I feel great, baby. And so do you," I palmed his perfectly sculpted cheeks and gave a gentle squeeze.

His breath caught and his teak eyes darkened with desire. "Leah, I would enjoy nothing more than to make love to you right now, but it is too soon after your injury."

I snorted and drew my tongue in a long stroke along his jawline. "Werewolves heal really, really fast, baby. And horny she-wolves heal even faster when they get some hot loving from their half-vampire imprints."

He laughed quietly and nuzzled my throat, but he also reached behind him to gently tug my hand out of his pants. "I am flattered that you give so much credit to my prowess that you believe it has the power to heal," he whispered. "But we are not alone."

I jerked backward and gaped at him wordlessly. He smiled and threw a nod over my shoulder, indicating I should look behind me. I rolled over.

My back had been to the opposite side of the room, so I'd completely missed the small seating area—a plush leather couch and matching armchair in a rich burgundy hue. My mother was curled up in the chair beneath a blanket. Seth was stretched out on the couch, an arm and a leg hanging off the side. Amazingly, he wasn't snoring, which is why I'd had no idea he was there. Anjali was sprawled on top of him. They were all sound asleep.

_Shit! Well that could have been really embarrassing._

Nahuel slipped one bandaged arm over my waist and gently drew me backward to spoon against him. "They have not left you, even for a moment," he whispered. "It is still early in the morning and everyone is very tired. Can you sleep for a while longer, my heart?"

I gently rubbed his arm, careful to avoid the bandage, and nodded. He sighed happily into my hair. Within minutes, his breathing returned to the deep, even cadence of sleep.

Although I'd truly felt energized when I first woke up, I found myself feeling tired again. Carlisle was probably right that I needed more rest. My accelerated healing required a lot of energy. Still, even though I closed my eyes and focused on the hypnotic, soothing rhythm of Nahuel's breathing, I couldn't fall asleep.

My mind kept replaying the encounter in the barn, only this time I wasn't dwelling on the horror of it. I was trying to decode any hidden meaning behind the little that Joham's lackey had said. What was I missing?

_I got experience with you fragile types._

Had he fucked a human woman before? Or, since he was no relation to Joham, maybe not a human woman, but one who was half human and therefore slightly less fragile?

My eyes opened and settled on the couch, where my brother slumbered quietly beneath his tiny, delicate-looking imprint.

_I can control myself just fine …_

Whoever it was, she'd survived...

… _I know just what to do to fill that pretty little belly of yours …._

… and he'd been really, really proud of his success rate.

As if I'd been speaking aloud and woke her, Anjali's hazel eyes shot open. Her gaze was instantly alert, aware … and calculating.

_Oh. Fuck. Me._


	24. Miss Peculiar

**A/N:** _Sorry for the delay between this chapter and the last. The holiday season is my insanely busy season at work, and since my day job is also a writing job, by the time I have a minute to work on this story I am so fried I can barely string a coherent sentence together. Of course, if this chapter makes sense and doesn't read like it was written by a brain-fried Steph Meyer wannabe, then credit goes to my meticulous betas Evelyn-Shaye and Munkeerajah. They are the tinsel on my Christmas tree!_

_Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I'm just playing with the wrapping paper and trying to get the creases right._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 24 – Miss Peculiar<strong>

It's a long, confused stumble from the cradle to the grave. At some point along the way, every one of us will face that very first can't-breathe, punch-in-the-gut _"Oh, fuck!"_ moment when we realize that someone we love is in danger and there isn't jack shit we can do to save them. Some of us get that kick in the teeth as kids when a pet or grandparent—or maybe even a parent—dies. Some of us squeak by a bit longer and don't get the nasty lesson until we're adults, watching a friend kill themselves with booze, bad food or work.

My moment came when I was just nine years old.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and I'd spent the day playing with Jake's sisters, roaming all over the rez, getting into shit we totally had no business being in. We stole toilet paper from the community center and rolled the entire front yard of an elder's house. We pinched some candy out of one of the machines in front of the grocery store. Yeah, it had been a great day.

Twilight was approaching, and we knew it was time to go home, but we also knew we would get our butts kicked for being out so late. We were already in trouble, so walking near the train tracks—where we'd been forbidden to ever go—seemed like the perfect thrilling, forbidden end to our day of pre-teen debauchery.

I remember running up to the tracks, and suddenly one of the neighborhood dogs was there, running and playing with us. Every community has at least one of these dogs, right? A mutt that belongs to no one and everyone at the same time? One day my mom would feed it; the next day Jake's mom would toss it some scraps.

We were having so much fun playing chase with that damned dog that none of us noticed the freight train as it barreled out of a blind curve and slammed down the straight stretch of track toward us. Lucky for us, the driver spotted us right away and blasted a warning with the train whistle. The three of us scrambled off the tracks with plenty of time to spare. The dog, however, just kept running around the tracks, barking maniacally, totally oblivious to the doom that was bearing down on it.

We tried calling to the dog to come, trying to coax it off the tracks. When it became clear that the mutt wasn't going to listen, I actually started toward the tracks to drag it away. Rachel saved my life by grabbing my arm and holding me back, just as the dog darted back into the path of the train.

Dog versus train. No contest.

The train did what trains do … and kept on going.

I have never forgotten the feeling of sick, powerless dread that I felt watching that train bear down on that stupid dog. Now, every time I looked at Seth, every time I thought of my suspicions about Anjali, that same nauseated sensation punched me in the gut.

Between that feeling and the revolting stench of vampire that surrounded me, I'd puked three times in the forty-eight hours that I'd been confined to the Cullen house. Of course, I made sure to heave quietly, because if Nahuel caught me worshipping the porcelain god, he'd insist on extending my forced recuperation.

Hiding my stomach problems sucked rocks, but not nearly as much as it would suck to have to stay any longer in that house. Living in a mansion full of vampires was every bit as wretched as I would have imagined. My problems were many and varied.

Worry and guilt over the disappearance of my Alpha and his imprint plagued me constantly. No one would talk to me about what they were doing to find Jake and Renesmee. Whether that was because they were trying to protect me until I was better (Seth's excuse) or so pissed they couldn't even speak to me (Bella and Edward's motivation), didn't matter to me. I craved information, but got nothing, so the best I could do was keep reminding myself that Jake was the smartest, strongest person I knew. He was a survivor. He'd be alright.

I promised myself that as soon as Carlisle released me from his care, I'd go looking for Jake. When I found him, I intended to beg him to take me back into the pack. I had plenty to apologize for, not the least of which was realizing so late how important my bond with Jake and the pack was in my life. I knew now it was a bad decision to disobey my Alpha and break my link to him and my pack brothers. I was getting repaid for that bad decision in spades.

Seth and the others had completely shut me out of pack business. He wouldn't discuss anything pack-related with me, not even when I demanded to know what they were doing to aid in the search for Jake and Renesmee. He said it was for my own good, so that I could focus on getting well. Knowing Seth, he was probably sincere about that, but it still hurt.

And it seriously chapped my ass that my brother, my imprint—and everyone else—was treating me like a damned invalid. I felt better and ready to go home the day after my injury, but all Nahuel and Seth had to hear were the words "possible paralysis" from Carlisle and they acted like my spine might collapse at any moment. Then there was the total lack of privacy that comes from living around beings that all had supernatural hearing. There were things I needed to say to Nahuel, but I didn't want an audience.

The potential audience didn't seem to be damping my libido, however; I was in a state of near-constant sexual frustration. I wanted to pin my imprint to the bed and have my way with him—repeatedly—and I didn't care at all that our activities would be overheard by whoever was in the house at the time. Hell, Seth and Anjali didn't care, so why should I? I was horny. It had been four very long days since the last time Nahuel and I had made love.

But my heightened desire went beyond mere lust. Every night, I dreamt. Intense, vivid, terrifying nightmares in which icy hands mauled me, other unspeakably cold body parts prodded, and a whiskey voice made cryptic, undecipherable threats. Each time I had that dream, I woke from it shivering, and I knew with utter certainty that the only thing that could drive that bitter cold away was Nahuel's heat.

Yet every time I reached for him, he turned me away.

No matter how hard I pushed him, my fuck-hot half-vampire imprint refused to give up the goods until my full-vampire doctor decided my spinal injury was completely healed. At least, that's the excuse he gave me, and I wanted to believe that was why he kept me at arm's length. Wanted to accept that when his lips met mine without the passion I craved, it was only concern for my health that held him back.

But another part of me, the fat-ass-underwater portion of the slowly melting iceberg that was my core insecurity, feared something more was at the root of his distance. Maybe in the clear light of day—away from danger and surrounded by beings that were his perfect, beautiful equal in every way—he was beginning to doubt his feelings for me.

After all, even my own brother was rejecting me after what I'd done to my Alpha. How could I expect Nahuel to trust that I would continue loving him when I'd so faithlessly cast aside Jake and all my pack brothers?

Hanging over all my other worries was the crushing dread that I felt every time I looked at either my brother or his imprint. I had nothing but suspicions, but they were suspicions that made _sense—_too much sense to ignore.

My would-be rapist had known things about Nahuel and me that he could only have learned from someone inside our inner circle, and Anjali was the only outsider we'd welcomed in. There was a rat somewhere in our extended pack, and there simply wasn't anyone else it _could_ be.

I had to admit, I had no idea how she could be passing information to Joham and his minions. Seth was with her constantly, unless he was patrolling. And when he was off doing pack business, at least one member of the Cullen household was with her at all times. So I didn't see how she'd have the opportunity. And even if she had opportunity, she didn't have the means. She had no cell phone, nor private access to the Cullens' landline. I had no idea how she was doing it, but I was sure she was feeding information to Joham.

The other thing that baffled me was _why_. Even though I suspected her of betraying us, I still couldn't deny her obvious adoration of my brother. I had no doubt she'd die to protect him. But that didn't mean she wouldn't give up me or my imprint, did it? I really felt like she'd sacrifice any one of us if it meant protecting Seth.

Was that her motivation? Had Joham offered her the same deal she'd put in front of Nahuel those first moments in the clearing all those weeks ago? Had her batshit crazy daddy offered to let her keep her "human pet" in exchange for her cooperation?

I desperately hoped that my suspicions about her were wrong, or that, if I was right, she was at least acting out of some misguided belief it would protect Seth. Then again, maybe she was just an evil bitch who was really, really good at faking feelings for my baby brother.

Worst of all, I couldn't talk to anyone about my suspicions. I'd thought I was done hiding things from Nahuel, and it was hard as hell to conceal this from him. And keeping secrets from Seth was not only difficult; it never turned out well, either. But I couldn't confess my suspicions to either of them; they were the two people most likely to be hurt by all this, whether I was right or not. If I mouthed off and was wrong, I'd damage my relationship with both of them. If I was right, they'd both be devastated. It was just a question of how much and how soon.

_Damned if I do, damned if I don't. Sometimes it fucking sucks to be me. Not as often as it used to, but sometimes it still does._

A quiet knock on the door of my very luxurious prison cell interrupted my self-pity party. The distinct odor of vampire, mixed with the most wonderful aroma on the planet, alerted me to who was on the other side of the door: the only two people who could possibly make me feel better right now.

I hurried across the room and yanked open the door to find Nahuel and Carlisle standing there with matching grins.

_Like goddamned Cheshire cats._

"So what's the word?" I demanded, stepping aside to allow them both to enter the room. "Can I go home?"

Carlisle chuckled at my impatience. "Well, the x-rays we took this morning show that everything has healed perfectly. As long as you agree to take it easy at home for a few more days, I see no reason to keep you confined any longer."

I narrowed my eyes at his wide smile and glanced at Nahuel. His eyes were soft and concerned. He was picking at his finger nail, and I knew what that meant: he was worried. There was no way I was walking out of here with him still wearing that expression.

I turned back to Carlisle. "Would you mind clarifying what you mean by 'take it easy'?"

He nodded, brisk and business-like. "Of course. I know you want to join the search for Renesmee and Jacob as soon as possible, but I'd like you to avoid strenuous activity like running or phasing for at least another day. No heavy lifting or driving during that time. Continue to get plenty of rest …"

I ruthlessly interrupted him. "What about sex?"

Carlisle blinked once and cleared his throat—something he _so_ did not need to do. It was the vampire equivalent of a full-on blush and stammering.

"I see no need for you to …" his golden eyes flickered toward Nahuel, "… abstain."

I probably looked like a horny teenager, but I couldn't help my satisfied smirk. I caught Nahuel's gaze and held it, but spoke directly to Carlisle.

"Great! Thanks for taking care of me, doc," I said, finally returning my eyes to Carlisle's handsome face. "I owe you one."

He stepped forward and offered his hand. I managed to take it immediately, without hesitation; I'd come a long way.

"Leah, we consider you a part of our family," he said, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. How could something so cold convey so much warmth? "I hope someday you'll feel the same."

Now it was my turn to blush and stammer. "Uh, thanks, Carlisle. I know I haven't always been … understanding … of your cov—uh, family. I really appreciate everything you've done for me."

I glanced at Nahuel. He smiled at me encouragingly. "For us," I amended. "I promise I'm going to bring Renesmee and Jacob home. I've caused your family a lot of grief and—"

"No one blames you, Leah," Carlisle interrupted, gently but firmly.

I shook my head self-consciously. "Yeah, well, I don't know about that. But _I_ blame me. So I'm going to make this right, even if that seems impossible right now."

"Nothing is impossible, Leah," he said, his golden eyes boring into me. Strangely, his hand no longer felt cold at all as he held mine. It was as if his undead flesh had somehow absorbed and reflected back my natural heat. "Our family is proof of that."

Tall, handsome and always looking like he stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine, Carlisle had never fit my image of how a father should look. _My_ father had been short, wrinkled, rumpled, brown and dumpy. He and Carlisle couldn't have looked more different. But suddenly, my GQ-perfect vampire doctor seemed to be channeling my plain, salt-of-the-earth human dad. I had a weird urge to lay my head on his shoulder.

He finally released my hand and stepped toward the door. "Would you like me to see if Seth can drive you home in one of our cars?"

Nahuel spoke up. "He is conducting some pack business right now and is unavailable. He said he would send Paul to accompany us when Sue comes to retrieve us. I will call Sue and inform her we are ready to go home."

I gritted my teeth and bit back a snarky comment. I was still pissed at Paul for leaving Nahuel alone and setting off the entire chain of events that led up to Jake's disappearance. But I wanted to go home badly enough that I'd swallow being babysat by the asshat.

Carlisle nodded once. "Very well, then. Leah, you're officially released from my care." He smiled kindly and closed the door gently behind him.

Before I could launch myself onto Nahuel and begin tearing off his clothes—and believe me, I had every intention of doing just that—he pulled my cell phone from his pocket and hit the speed dial. I gaped at him in disbelief, but he studiously avoided looking at me. Was he actually calling my mother _now_, when we'd just been given the go-ahead to get busy? What the fuck?

I heard the phone ringing in his ear, and then my mother's voice answering. Nahuel angled his body slightly away from me as he greeted my mother. "Hello, Sue. How are you?" My mother's muffled voice responded.

"Yes, Carlisle has decided Leah may go home. One moment …" He paused and moved the phone away from his mouth, still not looking at me as he spoke. _Not a good sign._

"Leah, perhaps you would like to have a shower while I speak with Sue? I will collect your things so we will be prepared to leave right away when she and Paul arrive."

I ground my teeth together and glared at him. _Lousy, twat-blocking half-vampire._

"Yeah, sure, whatever," I snarled, before grabbing clean clothes and stomping into the bathroom.

I flipped the light switch, illuminating the one thing in the Cullen house that I was really, really going to miss—the bathroom.

Normally, I couldn't care less about interior design, especially when it came to the john. As long as the plumbing worked and everything was clean and tidy, that was usually good enough for me. But this bathroom … even I had to admit it was a little slice of paradise.

The side-by-side sinks, set in a burgundy granite countertop that sparkled with flecks of gold, were lovely. The floor tile was so warm and smooth underfoot that it was hard to believe it was stone, although I couldn't have told you what kind. The crowning glory, however, the feature that pushed this room from the realm of great right into outrageously awesome, was the shower.

It wasn't anything like the mundane little tub and vinyl curtain that passed for a shower in the Clearwater domicile. This shower was an actual room, a huge, walk-in affair that was roughly the same size as my entire bathroom back home.

On the wall opposite the entrance to the shower room, a large window of frosted glass blocks filled the space with muted light, tinted green from the surrounding forest. A rainfall showerhead descended from the ceiling and multiple jets, shower heads, nozzles and handles were everywhere on three of the four walls. A low bench and recessed shelving were built into the fourth wall.

I stripped out of my borrowed pajamas and dropped them in the middle of the bathroom floor. I didn't even bother trying to adjust the water temperature. I just started turning handles, and within seconds the entire room was filled with flying water and steam. I stepped into the spray and let the water envelope me.

But I was feeling too fucking _rejected_ to really be able to enjoy my last shower in this heavenly bathroom. I turned my face up into the spray and let the beads of water bounce off my closed eyelids. I was dejected, hurt and, more than anything else, pissed. I was mad at Nahuel for brushing me off yet again and angry at myself for being so stupidly hurt over it. I knew I had bigger things to worry about right now than whether or not I was getting any, but I couldn't help the way I felt.

I ground the water out of my eyes with the heels of both hands, reached for the sponge—Alice said it was a "loofah." What the fuck is a "loofah?"—and squirted a generous dollop of some girly-smelling bath shit onto it. I started scrubbing the rough sponge over my shoulders and arms, down my stomach and legs, scouring my skin—as if I could wash away my own stupidity.

For two days, I'd been trying to stifle my suspicion that if Nahuel really wanted me as much as I'd wanted him, it wouldn't have been so easy for him to resist my advances. If he had really been holding back because of concerns for my health, well, Carlisle's awkward pronouncement should have cleared everything up for him. If that really had been the only thing keeping him out of my pants, he'd be in here with me right now, I thought.

I finished soaping and rinsing my legs. Tossing the loofah onto the bench, I retrieved a bottle of shampoo from the shelf. I turned back toward the spray … and squeaked in surprise like a little girl.

Nahuel stood in the shower doorway, stripped down to his boxers, a massive hard-on peeking through the front flap of his underwear. I smirked. At least part of him still wanted me. I let my eyes travel greedily up his body, over his sculpted abs and chest. My smugness drained away, however, when my gaze reached his face. The shampoo bottle slipped from my fingers and clattered dully on the wet tile.

Storm-filled, on-the-edge Nahuel was back and barely in control of himself.

His teak eyes were wide, angry and pain-filled. His sensual lips pressed together in a tight, white line. When my eyes met his, tremors shivered through his limbs, and he struggled visibly to suppress them. I hadn't seen him look this close to losing it since that first night in my living room.

I took a hasty step toward him. "Baby, what is it? What's wrong?"

The hand he held up to halt me shook badly.

"Do _not_ …" he shouted, choking off when he heard the volume of his own voice. He patted the air once before dropping his hand. He drew in a shuddering breath, held it and exhaled hard before continuing in a quieter tone. "I am sorry. I have been waiting until you were recovered to speak of certain things we must discuss. If you touch me, I will not be able to continue."

My stomach knotted, and I swallowed the threatening nausea. Nothing good ever came of a conversation that started with any variation of "we need to talk."

"Okay," I said cautiously, struggling to keep my own voice under control. "Just let me dry off and put on some clothes, and we'll sit down and talk."

He continued as if I hadn't spoken at all.

"When my sire's agents took me from your house, I was unafraid."

He took a step into the shower, joining me in the hot spray. I backed away from his anger until my legs bumped the bench behind me. As if my traitorous body had registered the presence of a seat, my knees suddenly went slack, and I sat abruptly with a wet splat.

"I felt no fear because I knew you would find me," he said, taking another slow step forward, barely leashed menace evident in every trembling line of his form. "I knew that you would come for me, and that you would rescue me."

One more step, and he was right in front of me now. I scooted backward on the bench until my back hit the slick tile wall. He leaned forward and braced his palms on either side of the wall behind me. Water cascaded down his glorious face, running into his eyes, but he made no move to wipe it away. Instead, he bent at the waist, bringing his fury-filled eyes level with mine.

"But I could not imagine that you would be so fucking _witless_ as to come alone," he growled, the uncharacteristic profanity hitting me like a ringing slap. His anger and the venom in his voice stunned me speechless. "Or that you would do the one thing I have asked you _not_ to do—put yourself at risk—in order to rescue _me_."

His hands slid from the wall onto my shoulders, then down my arms. His long fingers wrapped painfully tight around my biceps.

"I retreated into my mind to escape the physical pain, but I did not know a moment's fear until I opened my eyes and saw you, helpless and hurt and _alone_."

His lips drew back in a snarl, and he spat his next words through clenched teeth.

"Do you truly not understand my feelings for you at all?"

He dragged me to my feet, hauling my limp, wet body against his length.

"Are you truly unaware that I can endure any pain, except _your_ pain?"

He shook me hard, rattling my teeth, as if he'd completely forgotten that I'd just recovered from a spinal injury. His voice was thunderous, and part of me wondered why no one was busting through the door to see what he was shouting about.

"Do you really not know that your loss is the only thing I could not survive?"

"How…" Shake!

"…could you…" Shake!

"…be so fucking…" Shake! Shake!

"…_stupid!"_

Normally, I'd never tolerate manhandling from anyone, not even my imprint. But his rage had sliced through my self-involved haze, and I was having a moment of stunned clarity, a moment of sensitivity. I realized, for the first time since I'd found Nahuel in that god-awful barn, that I wasn't the only one in an emotional freefall because of that encounter.

I'd been angry and hurt that he was rejecting me physically, never once thinking about how my close call must have made _him_ feel. Once again, I'd thought only of my own pain.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

It was a horrible, hurt-filled moment. So of course, I made it worse. I burst into tears, stunning us both.

_What the hell is WRONG with me?_

Nahuel released me immediately, stumbling away from me as if I'd just caught fire. He didn't stop until his back slammed into the far wall of the shower. His face was a study in horror and self-loathing. He gripped his hair with both hands, pulling furiously, punishingly.

"Ñi piuque, I am sorry. I am sorry," he gasped. "I did not mean to hurt you. I do not know what came over me. I am a monster."

I leaped up, my feet slipping and sliding on the wet tile floor. The water, still blazingly hot (of course the Cullens would have a kick-ass water heater), continued to hammer down on us. I lunged across the floor and slammed into him, weeping hysterically and clutching him desperately. His arms wrapped around me automatically, and I buried my snot-covered face against his warm, hard chest.

"Why?" I sobbed. "Why won't you hold me? Why won't you touch me?" Was this really me, crying and clinging like some reality show regular? I just couldn't get ahold of myself, couldn't get a grip on my runaway emotions.

His rich, deep voice quavered with confusion. "I do not understand. I touch you _constantly_. I cannot _stop_ touching you. After what I just did, you should forbid me to touch you ever again."

I pushed back, swiped my forearm under my free-flowing nose and gazed at him wordlessly. Surprised understanding dawned on his wet, handsome face.

"Do you mean .…" He paused and wiped water from his eyes, groping for the right words. "Do you think because I have not made love to you since your injury that I do not _want_ you?"

I shrugged one shoulder, struggling to bring my tears under control.

He shook his head. His eyes were bewildered. "Your mother was right," he whispered, amazement darkening his voice. I didn't know why the hell he was bringing my mother into this, but I dropped my eyes from his, ashamed for him to see my weakness. "You truly do not know."

His big, warm hands rose to cradle my face. "Look at me," he commanded. I shook my head, my face crumpling again. "Look at me, my heart. Please."

Damn him, but he knew I couldn't refuse him when he used that tender, pleading tone on me. I forced myself to meet his intense gaze.

"You were injured very badly," he explained. "Your body needed to heal."

He hesitated. "And … I know what he tried to do to you. Edward saw it in your memories when he questioned you, when you were drugged and could not speak. He thought I should know, so he told me what he saw."

My tears had stopped, and now I gasped with anger. _Fucking, intrusive mind-reader! _I felt violated all over again.

His eyes clouded with sorrow. "I did not know if you would want me to touch you … like that … so soon. I did not want to remind you of what happened. What almost happened."

I clapped my palm to my forehead and gaped at him.

What a pair we were, each muddying the waters of communication between us by keeping our yaps shut when we should have been talking to each other. He was still holding my face tenderly, and I grabbed his wrists.

"I've been having nightmares," I blurted.

He cringed, nodded understandingly and attempted to withdraw his hands. I wouldn't let him.

"You don't get it, Nahuel," I plunged on. "There is no comparison between what that bastard tried to do and what I want from you. It's not even in the same ballpark. It's like comparing a kiss to a gunshot wound.

"Every time I wake up from one of those goddamned nightmares, all I want is you." Emotion swelled in me again. "I _need_ you, baby," I croaked. "I just need to feel you. I n … need you to make the c … cold go away. Please."

His breath caught. His lips parted, and he studied me intently.

"Ñi piuque, I will do anything for you. You must know that I want you. Always. Forever."

I sniffed pathetically and looked down at my wrinkled, water-logged toes. "Forever? Really? That's a very long time to be stuck with the same fucked-up person, Nahuel."

For a moment, he was silent, and I thought maybe he realized I was right and was just looking for a kind way to agree. When he snorted oddly, my eyes flashed back to his angel's face.

He was struggling heroically not to laugh. My stunned expression pushed him over the edge, and he exploded into loud hoots. Even his annoying laughter sounded like a heavenly chorus, I thought resentfully.

"You are right, beloved." _There's that name again. I'm thinking I like it. _"Eternity is a very long time to spend with one person."

His laughter suddenly faded and his eyes became serious. "But forever is much longer if you spend it alone. I know: I have already wasted the first one hundred fifty years of _my_ forever without you. I have no desire to attempt a minute more of it apart from you."

He pressed a sweet kiss to my lips. "I love you, Leah, and I always will."

Nahuel turned off the water that had been pouring down the drain through our entire drama, and drew me toward the door of the shower.

"You must make me a promise," he said, calmly, the anger and angst of the past few minutes completely gone from his tone. "You must promise me you will not risk yourself again."

"Nahuel, I can't promise something like that," I hedged. "I have to find Jake and Renesmee."

He snagged a huge, fluffy towel off a nearby towel bar, draped it around my shoulders and began rubbing briskly. "Of course," he agreed. "We will do so together, and in such a way that does not risk your life again."

I wanted to disagree. I meant to tell him I wasn't some fragile, glass flower that needed protecting. But even hidden within the towel, his hands were sending shockwaves of lust through my deprived body. It was becoming increasingly difficult to focus on anything other than the dampness collecting between my thighs.

"Sue and Paul will be here in ninety minutes," he murmured. "That should be just enough time."

He knelt in front of me and began stroking the towel down my legs. "For what?" I demanded breathily.

He looked up between his lashes and gave me a smoldering smirk.

"For me to demonstrate just how pleasure-filled I intend to make _your_ forever."

_Oh, fuck yeah! Bring it, baby!_


	25. When the Wind Blows

_**A/N: **With the holidays bearing down on us, this will probably be my last update before the New Year. However, I do have the third outtake fully done and will post it when we reach 500 reviews or Christmas, whichever comes first. If you're kind enough to review this chapter, I'll send you a preview of the outtake. I promise, it's a scorcher!_

_As always, MunkeeRajah and Evelyn-Shaye worked their magic on this chapter. They are definitely on the nice list this year!_

_Finally, since a few readers pointed out that I should have done this for chapter 20, I am hereby issuing a tissue alert for this chapter. If you don't have a box handy, proceed at your own risk!  
><em>

_Stephenie Meyer owns twilight. I'm just borrowing tape from her dispenser._

* * *

><p>Chapter 25 — When the Wind Blows<p>

**Leah POV**

"Goddammit, Paul, you shithead!" I reached forward into the front seat of my mother's Buick and slapped Jake's brother-in-law in the back of the head. He lurched forward and glared at me over his shoulder.

"Leah!" My mother's espresso eyes skewered me in the rearview mirror. "Keep your hands to yourself!"

Beside me in the back seat, Nahuel gently laid his hand on the small of my back—his way of cautioning me against starting anything with Paul. Too late. Paul was already on my shit list for leaving Nahuel alone and setting off the whole chain of events that ended with me injured, Nahuel's arms permanently scarred, and Jake missing.

After all that, he had the balls to wait until we were on the way home from the Cullen house to drop a huge, shitty bombshell on my head. The elders had called a full council to discuss the future of the packs and what to do about Jacob's disappearance.

I couldn't recall anything good ever coming from one of their meddle-fests.

I took another swipe at Paul's fat head. "Why am I only hearing about this now? When the fuck were you going to tell me this, asshole?"

Paul jerked his head out of reach and glowered at me. It was a testimony to how much he'd matured in five years of marriage to Jake's sister that he didn't come across the seat after me. Unfortunately, his maturity didn't extend to his mouth.

"I'm telling you now, bitch," he snapped. "And maybe you should ask why the hell Seth didn't tell you about it first!"

"Stop it, both of you!" my mother commanded, raising her voice to overpower the low growl emanating from my imprint. Paul's belligerent, insulting reply had shifted Nahuel's gears from calm to outraged in a heartbeat. If I didn't want this to turn into an all-out slugfest inside my mother's car, I needed to get him calmed down. Which meant I needed to calm myself first.

I took a deep breath and sat back, reaching for Nahuel's hand. As soon as my skin contacted his, the rumble in his chest died to silence. He left off staring daggers at Paul and turned his golden gaze to me. I took several more cleansing breaths. Nahuel seemed to grow calmer with each one. I wished I could let go of my annoyance so easily.

"When is the meeting?"

Paul and my mother exchanged sideways glances. "We're not actually supposed to tell you," he muttered.

I felt my blood pressure spike again. "Says who? And why the hell not?"

"Says Sam," he replied.

"And the other elders," my mother added, her tone full of disapproval. "They feel that since you're no longer part of the pack, you should have no place at council. Obviously, I don't agree with that."

My stomach slid toward my toes. I'd already been beating myself up for not considering the ramifications of breaking the pack link before I did it, and this was a whole new ball of earwax. I hadn't considered at all what the elders' reaction would be. I'd been too obsessed with finding Jake to worry what the rest of the community—at least the part that knew about the packs—might think.

I wasn't surprised by their decision. Most of them had never been too comfortable with having a female in the pack to begin with, let alone one as bitchy as I was. They were probably glad for the excuse to not have to deal with me anymore.

_Fuck that shit. They are NOT cutting me out of things. _

"When is the meeting, Mom?"

"Tonight," she replied. She glanced at Paul again, and after a moment, he nodded, as if they'd just had another silent chat.

"What?" I demanded.

"Sam's going to ask the council to order Jake's guys to rejoin Sam's pack," Paul announced. Although he'd been the third to follow Seth and I in leaving Sam's pack for Jake's, Paul had never quite bought into our belief that Sam had turned out to be an asshole. He was feeling it now, though, if the disgust and betrayal in his tone was any evidence.

I didn't need more than a second to realize what it would mean for Jake if Sam was successful. I understood why Sam would ask for it, and why the elders might agree—right now, Jake's pack was directionless. A wolf pack without an Alpha was useless at best, and downright dangerous at worst. But the solution for that was to find Jake quickly, not force his pack to abandon him.

Like I had already done.

I felt shaky and sick to my stomach. "How can they consider that? Would any of the guys even listen to them if they did?"

"Fuck if I know," Paul said. "That's why we're telling you this. Damned if I'm going to let them leave Rach's brother out there all alone. But no one is going to listen to me unless I've got some backup."

"And I'm the best you can come up with?" That was just sad. "What about Seth?"

Paul and Mom exchanged another look. I was getting tired of this silent communication thing they had going on. It was bad enough when that nosy vampire mind-reader did it.

"C'mon! What about Seth?"

"We're not sure where Seth stands," my mother answered quietly.

Nahuel's fingers tightened around mine, and he made a low sound of disbelief. "Surely, Seth will support Leah and Paul," he said.

"Seth's not talking," Paul replied. "Don't know why, don't care. If the little shit doesn't step up and do the right thing, I'm going to kick his ass to Port Angeles and back."

"This just doesn't make any sense," I said, shaking my head. "Seth wouldn't side with Sam, would he?"

_What if he does, though?_ my inner bitch whispered. _What if Anjali doesn't want Jake and Renesmee found and is manipulating Seth to make sure they aren't?_

With my free hand, I rubbed my stomach. I was starving and nauseated at the same time. I'd refused to eat before we left the Cullen house because I'd been pretty sure that between the smell of vampire, my stress over Jake, and my ongoing stomach problems, I'd have projectile-vomited before I managed to get down three bites. Hunger was probably the source of my light-headedness now.

"There's more, Leah," my mother said, turning off the highway and onto the side road that led to the rez. "The council has invited the Cullens to attend."

My head was going to explode. For sure.

"Really? On the rez?"

The elders had allowed Carlisle onto the reservation just once before, when Jake had been injured after the fight with Victoria's newborns and the doc had gone to Billy's house to patch him up. Maybe if they were allowing Carlisle to attend the council, they weren't completely ready to write off my Alpha. Maybe they were hoping to coordinate search efforts with the Cullens.

"Yeah," Paul affirmed. We'd never be friends, but I felt a pang of painful companionship at the desperation in his dark eyes. "Carlisle, Edward and Jasper will be there. The elders want to talk about what the vamps are doing to find Jake and Nessie. That's gotta be good, right? It means they're still willing to look for him. Right?"

I shrugged. "Could be."

I didn't add what I was thinking, though. Any pack member who decamped back to Sam's pack was probably going to get an immediate Alpha order to stay the hell put and protect the rez. Sam had been really vocal about how terrible he thought it was that Jake was planning to take wolves away from the rez and out into the world when the Cullens left Forks. He believed every Quileute wolf belonged here, protecting the tribe and our land. There was no way he'd allow any of his guys to go off looking for Jake.

Could the Cullens find Jake and Renesmee without the help of the packs? It was pretty much a foregone conclusion that Joham had them. Even if the Cullens found my missing friend and his imprint, would the vampires be able to rescue them alone? They were a strong coven, but I was afraid Joham's was stronger. Not to mention batshit crazy, evil and not inclined to fight fair.

Paul gripped the seatback and pinned me with a pleading look. "We can't let them give up, Leah. We just can't. It would kill Rach."

My throat closed up with yet another layer of guilt. Rachel was my friend, too, and I remembered how panicked she'd been years ago when she thought Jake was missing. He'd gone wolf, hiding out on four feet trying to forget his heartbreak over Bella Swan, but Rach hadn't known that he was safe. How much worse was this for her, now, knowing he was in danger?

"No one will abandon the search for Jacob," Nahuel said. His gaze rested on me, and my heart melted at the absolute trust shining from his eyes. "The Cullens want to find him as much as they do Renesmee. Leah will convince the elders to help them."

I swallowed hard and gave his hand an appreciative squeeze. "Thanks," I murmured, as my mother stopped the car in front of our house. I did a double-take at the sight of Charlie's cruiser sitting in the driveway.

"What's Charlie doing here?" I asked my mother.

She turned off the engine and met my eyes in the rearview mirror again, but ignored my question, responding to Nahuel instead.

"We all will," she said. "And if we can't … well then to hell with them all. We'll find Jake and Nessie ourselves."

"I hope you do not include yourself in the active membership of that 'we,' Sue," Nahuel said as we climbed out of the car.

"Mom," I tried again. "What's Charlie doing here?"

My mother glanced at me, then smiled at Nahuel. It was too sweet and innocent. "What do you mean, dear?" she asked him.

Oh, ho! So that's their game. Charlie was waiting inside because Mom thought she and her fiancé were going to take a bigger role in finding Charlie's granddaughter and my Alpha. There was no way I was going to let that happen, but Nahuel spoke before I could open my mouth.

"Your friendship and emotional support will be vital to everyone's efforts, but you—and Charlie, if he is thinking along the same lines—must not expect to be involved in the physical aspects of this search," he said, closing the car door for her. "It is simply too dangerous."

Her lips compressed and her eyes narrowed. I mentally snickered. _Busted, Mom!_

"Well, of course not," she huffed, heading for the front door.

Behind her back, Paul and Nahuel exchanged a friendly fist-bump. I rolled my eyes, even though no one was looking at me to appreciate my disgust. By the time Paul turned to me, I'd managed to wipe the annoyance off my face. No sense in riling him up again. Looked like we were going to need each other tonight when we faced the council.

"Look, I gotta take off," Paul said. "Rach and Billy are both pretty messed up about Jake, and I don't want to leave them alone any more than necessary."

A fresh pang of guilt nudged me in my shaky stomach. "Sure, Paul. Thanks for riding with us, and thanks for telling me about the meeting. I'll see you tonight."

He tapped his eyebrow in a friendly salute and trotted toward the tree line, already pulling his shirt over his head. Trust Paul to choose running as a wolf over simply driving his car. I turned quickly toward the house when he reached for his waistband. I'd seen his naked ass enough.

Mom and Nahuel had already gone inside, and I gave myself a quick mental pep talk before following them.

_Do not lose your temper with Charlie. He's just trying to help. Explain to him calmly why he can't help look for Jake. He's a smart guy. He'll get it._

Thinking I sounded pretty reasonable—at least to myself—I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders before opening the front door … only to have two of my five senses go into immediate overload. My eyes and nose were competing to see which could blow my mind first.

Smell won out as the overpowering fragrance of flowers—fucking hundreds of them—smacked me in the face. My eyes caught up with my nose a split second later.

My living room was filled with flowers.

Huge bouquets in tall glass vases. Sprays of long, bell-like blooms in baskets of varying shapes and sizes. Bunches of brightly colored balls and puffs in squat containers. Petals strewn on the floor, coffee table, couch—even my father's rump-sprung recliner. Damned if I could have told you what kind any of them were, other than the roses, but they were freaking _everywhere_.

It was totally, ridiculously over the top. And it was the most confusing thing I'd ever seen, because in the midst of all this floral chaos stood my imprint, looking like he was going to barf at any moment. Behind him, nearly hidden by all the absurd flowers, were Charlie and Mom. Charlie was wearing a shit-eating grin and my mother's eyes were bright and teary.

And suddenly I remembered my mother's words the day Nahuel was taken. About how he'd wanted to do things right.

With flowers.

In front of her and Charlie.

_Ohmigod._

Charlie wasn't here about Jake at all.

I wasn't sure if it was the overwhelming smell of the flowers, my very recent recovery, the fact that I hadn't eaten all day, or just the incredible weight of the moment itself, but my light-headedness was back in spades.

Nahuel's eyes widened in alarm as I swayed slightly on my feet. He flashed to my side, slipping an arm around my waist to steady me.

"Ñi piuque?"

_No, no, no. You are NOT going to fuck up this moment, bitch. Suck it up._

I forced weakness from my voice. "I'm okay. Just surprised. I think I'd like to sit down." I smiled at him and took his hand. He returned my smile warily and led me to the armchair where he'd sat the night Mom and Charlie announced their engagement.

When I was seated in the chair, I looked up at him expectantly. But Nahuel, who was never nervous—terrified, angry, confused, despondent, yes, but not _nervous_—stood in front of me, obviously at a loss for words. He shifted his weight from his left foot to his right, picking ruthlessly at his favorite cuticle. Then, after a few seconds of staring at me speechlessly, he shifted back to his left.

I watched the anxiety in his eyes slowly morph into something darker and overwhelming. He was obviously stuck, frozen with uncertainty. His desperate gaze swept to my mom. She smiled at him encouragingly. Apparently, it wasn't what he was hoping for. Incredulity mingled with the desperation on his face, as if he was thinking to himself: _That's it? That's all she's got for me?_

I could see the self-doubt eating away at his will. He wanted to do this; I knew that for sure. But somewhere inside him, that same old devil was sitting on his shoulder spouting bile, telling him he was worthless, a killer and a horrible monster unworthy of love. I'd heard that same self-destructive voice often enough in my life and I knew listening to it could pull you away from everything you loved. No way was I going to let that happen to Nahuel.

I leaned forward in my chair, caught his hand and tugged on it until he looked back at me, surprised.

"I love you," I said, keeping my voice low and gentle, as if we were alone in the room. It was the first time I had said it to him so directly, without the influence of strong painkillers in my system, and without him having said it first.

That was all it took to drive a stake through the heart of his inner demon. The smile that broke across his beautiful features was like that first ray of sunlight that makes its way through your bedroom curtains in the morning, reminding you that the world kept spinning while you languished in darkness, and that dawn would always break through, even when you didn't believe it could.

Tradition be damned—because really, what need did a female werewolf and a half-vampire have for tradition?—Nahuel gracefully went down on _both_ knees in front of me. He took both my hands in his and fixed his golden gaze on me. His eyes were warm and liquid with adoration.

"I love you, too, Leah." All shreds of doubt were gone from his deep, lustrous voice. "With everything in me."

His thumbs stroked warmly over the backs of my hands, and everything around me—the explosion of flowers, my mother and Charlie—faded into a blurred background. I only saw his perfect face.

"I am sorry that I have been so inept at making you aware of my feelings," he said, regret tinting his tone. I shook my head and opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off gently. "No, please do not disagree. I have been remiss. You know that I love you, but I do not think you fully understand the depth of my affection."

He lowered his eyes, studying our entwined hands. Turning mine over, he cradled them in his before bending forward and pressing a tender kiss in each palm. Electricity raced up my arms from that simple contact.

"Your hands are so beautiful and strong," he whispered, still staring at my hands and drawing small, hot circles on my palms with his thumbs. "You hold all that I am, right here."

He fell silent for a few moments, and the only sound in the room was my mother's quiet sniffling. Finally, he lifted his eyes to my face.

"Before I met you, I had no purpose. My existence was endless … and pointless." He drew my hands against his chest, and I could feel the thundering of his heart beneath my fingertips. "I was never … _enough_. Not human enough to give up my monstrous ways, nor vampire enough to stop caring that I was a monster."

I couldn't help myself; I had to interrupt. "You were _never_ a monster."

He tipped his head to the side with a slight shake and a regretful smile. "You are wrong, my heart. I was. From the very moment of my birth. And if I am no longer, it is only because _you_ have made me something more."

A soft choking sound from my mother drew my eyes to her. Damp tissues filled both her hands, and she was smiling like a fool through the tears streaming down her face. Charlie stood next to her, his arm stoically wrapped around her shoulders for support, but damned if his eyes didn't look suspiciously moist, too.

Nahuel shifted on his knees in front of me, and released one of my hands. When I looked back at him, he was holding my mother's solitaire between the thumb and index finger of his now-free hand.

"Leah, you have given me so much," he said, his voice heavy with emotion. "You have saved me in every way one being can save another. I have no way to repay you, and nothing more to give you than my promise to spend every day of forever loving you with all that I am."

Now I was crying, too, and I was so pissed at myself for it. I blinked rapidly and scrubbed the tears out of my eyes. I wanted to see his beautiful face clearly so that I would never forget a single second of this perfect moment.

"You already know that you are my heart and my soul." He raised the ring in offering. "Will you also be my wife? Will you marry me?"

I launched myself off the chair and into his arms, crying like an idiot and babbling "yes" over and over again. I was probably incoherent, but he seemed to understand that I was agreeing because the next thing I knew he was kissing me breathless.

When he finally let me come up for air, he slid the ring onto the ring finger of my left hand, and then covered my knuckles with reverent kisses. Two seconds later, my mother was on the floor with us, crying and laughing simultaneously, and trying to wrap her arms around us both.

"That was beautiful," she sobbed. "I'm so happy for you! I love you both so much!"

Charlie stepped around the couch and clapped Nahuel on the shoulder before grabbing Mom's hand.

"Congratulations to both of you," he said, his cheesy mustache quivering with mirth. "Sue, give them some breathing room, would you?"

She laughed and swiped at the tears still on her face, but let him draw her to her feet. "You don't fool me, Charlie Swan," she teased. "You're just as moved as I am."

He chuckled and, in a rare show of affection, pecked her on the cheek. "Yeah, maybe I am," he sighed. Then, he glanced around the room, shaking his head.

"Now what the hell are we going to do with all these flowers?"

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><p><em><strong>End Note:<strong> Soooo ... what do you think? Did he get it right this time?_


	26. Slow Burn

_**A/N:** Between my busy holiday schedule, one beta being on vacation without Internet access and the other deserving a much-needed holiday break from my demands, I didn't think I'd have this chapter ready before the new year. But once again, Evelyn-Shaye and Munkeerajah, the most wonderful betas a gal could be blessed with, came through for me. Evelyn did a great job catching all my mistakes and even without reliable Internet access Munkeerajah managed to review and contribute!_

_I started SSW a little over six months ago and it's been a great ride! Thanks to all of you for taking it with me. I hope 2012 brings everyone happiness, good health and everything you need to keep your family safe, warm and loved._

_Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.  
><em>

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><p>Chapter 26 – Slow Burn<p>

**Leah POV**

Six hours after Nahuel took my breath away with his sweet, romantic proposal, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with all those flowers.

I wanted to take every one of them—every freakin' stem, bud and petal—and shove them up Sam's ass. Then, I wanted to light them on fire. And, thanks to an overt display of Sam's barely concealed aggression, there was even a huge, intimidating bonfire on hand to light them with.

The dusky reds and burnished golds of twilight were fading into purple darkness by the time we arrived at the council meeting grounds. Sam's pack had already lit the fire and arranged a ring of logs, stumps and low benches around it.

Obviously, the participants were meant to sit there. And understandably, the vampires were a little put off by the arrangement, what with them being naturally … um, supernaturally … highly flammable.

Carlisle, Jasper and Edward—looking about a hundred years older than the seventeen-year-old he pretended to be—stood as far away from the fire as they could while still being in the circle. As soon as we arrived, Nahuel took up position behind them, sitting on the ground in the shadows, his elegant hands folded neatly in his lap. The remnants of Jake's pack—Paul, Embry, Quil, Beau and Seth—sat in a huddle close to the Cullens. Sam's guys sat on the opposite side of the fire, closer to the elders.

It was difficult to ignore the symbolism of everyone's positioning. Wood smoke and tension hung heavy in the air.

As soon as the chief elder—a sour-looking, goat-faced geezer who probably was young when dinosaurs roamed the earth—called the meeting to order, Sam launched his attack.

"The wolves are both the soul and the muscle of our tribe," he said, pacing like a powerful predator between the packs and the elders. "Since the time of Ephraim Black, all wolves have followed an Alpha. The Alpha provides the pack with the conscience and judgment needed to protect the tribe. With danger so close, we cannot afford to have even one wolf …" his eyes darted to me, "… useless and without direction."

He halted in front of the elders, his back to Jake's pack. "With Jacob missing, his pack is exactly that—useless and directionless." He paused for effect, allowing his words to sink into the slowly processing brains of the elders. "I ask the council to give them the direction they need by ordering the members of Jacob's pack to rejoin mine."

When Paul had told me what Sam planned, I'd had trouble believing he'd go through with it, even knowing, as I did now, that Sam's capacity for assholian behavior was boundless. Some small part of me clung to the memory of the man I'd once loved, and just couldn't believe Sam would try to steal Jake's pack from him.

I'd come to tonight's meeting telling myself I'd wait and see what he had to say before passing judgment. Now, barely ten minutes into the council meeting, I was gritting my teeth, trying my damnedest to hold back the string of profanities I so wanted to screech in Sam's arrogant, self-righteous face.

Long ago, when I'd been blindly in love with him, I'd thought the warm, flickering caress of firelight made him look heroic and noble. Yeah, you can only be that stupid when you're young and getting laid for the first time.

Sam had just made his power play to take over Jake's pack. The words were barely out of his mouth before Paul was on his feet, challenging our former Alpha in a way that was only going to convince the elders that Sam was right about Jake's pack needing to be brought to heel.

"There is no fucking way any one of us is going to follow you," Paul raged. "Jake's our Alpha and we are _not_ going to abandon him."

Paul might as well have hung the words "push here" in obnoxious red neon over his head, because Sam knew exactly which buttons to finger to set him—and me—off.

"At least one of you already has," Sam said, his deep voice dripping with contempt as his eyes flicked to where I stood midway between Jake's pack and the Cullens.

Heat surged up my cheeks and the muscles of my back tightened painfully, but I held my tongue. If I reacted to Sam's barb, it would only look bad for our side, and might make Nahuel feel he needed to defend me. Beside, what _could_ I say when Sam was right?

"Half of you were planning to rejoin my pack anyway when Jake left with the Cullens," Sam continued. "What difference should it make if you do that a little bit sooner than originally planned?"

There were four other elders besides my Mom, Billy and goat-face, and they'd been watching the confrontation like armchair quarterbacks whose mouths were too full of Buffalo wings to manage a coherent word. They thought they were going to sit back and let things play out before they made a decision that they imagined would bind both packs.

They had no fucking clue how quickly things were slipping in a direction from which none of us would easily be able to return. If something didn't give soon, I was pretty sure Paul and Sam were going to throw down right there in the middle of the council circle. If that happened, someone was going to get hurt—or worse.

Paul was barely holding it together. His body vibrated with fury. "You fucking _know_ that if we all join your pack, that leaves Jake with no connection to any of us," he snarled, spittle spraying across the short distance between him and Sam.

My ex studied Paul as if he were half a worm in an apple Sam had just bitten into.

"If you really are concerned about finding Jacob, then your pack needs a leader to be useful," he said. He cast a derisive glare at me again. "Without an Alpha, you have no direction. Maybe if you still had a _beta_ …"

He let the statement hang in the acrid, chilled air.

And there it was.

The real reason we were all in this cluster fuck. By breaking my link to Jake, I'd also cut myself off from my other pack brothers. If I couldn't communicate with them through the pack mind, I couldn't lead them as their beta. Sam—and Seth, too, though he hadn't actually come out and _said_ it—clearly thought I deserved to get my bare ass spanked in public for what I'd done.

I had to agree, but Sam sure as hell wasn't the wolf to do it. No, that privilege belonged to my rightful Alpha, and I'd happily let Jake kick my tail sideways if he wanted to.

Just as soon as we found him.

The moment seemed right for me to open my mouth and give Paul the backing he'd asked from me. I strode into the circle to stand beside Jake's brother-in-law, raised my chin and glared at Sam.

"I made a mistake," I said, mercilessly slapping down my pride. "Jake and Renesmee—the rest of the pack—shouldn't have to suffer any more because of my mistake."

"They're already suffering," Sam replied, scornfully. He nodded toward where Jake's remaining pack members sat in a huddle. "Look at them."

Against my will, my eyes slid to follow Sam's nod. Five pairs of desperate, frightened eyes skewered me. I'd never seen a sadder, more lost-looking lot of muscle-bound losers. Sam was right again: they needed direction. But not from him.

If they rejoined his pack, Sam would never allow them to go looking for Jake, which is what every last one of them wanted—and needed—to do. Yet because of my own selfish stupidity, I couldn't give them the leadership they needed.

Long seconds stretched between us as I pondered what to do. Paul's angst gained momentum.

"You're only making everything worse by trying to force us all to abandon our Alpha," he growled at Sam, aggression deepening his voice. "You can't do it, Sam. None of us will give up on Jake to follow you."

Finally, goat-face found his voice.

"She doesn't deserve it for her disloyalty, but we're permitting Leah Clearwater to speak out of respect for her mother's place on this council and for her father's memory," he said, sharply. "But the elders have not agreed to allow _you_ to speak, Paul Lahote. You will sit down and be quiet."

For a horrible moment, I thought Paul was going to tell the old bastard to fuck off—which is what I wanted to do. Hell, the old Leah _would_ have done exactly that, and even now, part of me thought, why not? How could that possibly make things worse?

My throat closed tightly, which was probably the only thing that kept my dinner from coming back up. I was nauseated and paralyzed with guilt and uncertainty. I didn't know how to fix this, and the only person I could think of who _would_ know … was missing because of me.

Maybe my prolonged silence made Paul think I wasn't going to back him up anymore, because the anger on his face rapidly gave ground to hopelessness. He sank back to his seat and slumped forward, his chin drooping onto his chest in defeat. Giving up was totally out of character for Paul, and a symptom of how lost he—and all the others—felt without Jake's presence.

Seth dropped his hand on Paul's broad shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. I looked at my baby brother's massive hand, and suddenly, I knew what to do.

I didn't trust my brother's imprint, but I _did_ trust Seth.

"Seth can lead them," I said.

My brother's head snapped up, his disbelieving eyes shot to me and his mouth dropped open. The rest of the pack stared at me like I'd just announced I was giving them all free cars. Behind me, pitched so low I doubted anyone on the other side of the fire caught it, I heard Edward's whisper.

"Well played, Leah."

Of course, he'd digested my thoughts before I'd even fully formed them. His smooth voice sounded like he might actually approve.

Sam's reaction was not so positive. "Oh, come on! He's just a kid," he cried, appalled by my suggestion. "He's not Alpha material!"

I turned on him fiercely, taking three steps until we were chest-to-chest. "Neither are you, Sam Uley," I growled. "Jacob Black is the only rightful Alpha in this tribe, and everyone knows it, including you."

Sam's face purpled in the dancing firelight and the muscles in his strong jaw leaped. I had just pushed the one button we both knew was almost guaranteed to make him blow. Only the presence of the elders—and his need to impress them with his leadership qualities so they'd give him Jake's pack—held him back. Because he couldn't very well tell me to fuck off like he wanted to, he said nothing and just continued to glare at me.

I pressed my attack. "Since Jake isn't here right now to lead the packs …" I intentionally emphasized the plural, "… Seth is the logical choice. His bloodline is as pure and long as Jake's, and he's older than Jacob was when he assumed leadership."

Over Sam's shoulder, I saw my mother's worried eyes darting between me and Seth. Beside her, Billy Black was nodding enthusiastically, as if he'd just heard the most brilliant idea ever. The other elders sat quietly, wearing expressions that ranged from contemplative to outraged. It was typical of them to let others hash out disagreements before they stepped in at the eleventh hour and made a decision, whether anyone else liked it or not.

As if no one else was around, they bent their grizzled heads together and muttered amongst themselves, apparently forgetting that the vamps on the other side of the fire would be able to hear their whispers as clearly as a shout. After tense, torturous minutes, they broke apart and goat-face turned to address the larger group.

"We find Leah's proposal acceptable," he said solemnly. I rolled my eyes. Dude was taking his role way too seriously. "We will accept Seth Clearwater as a temporary substitute for Jacob Black and permit him to lead the pack."

Sam looked like he'd just been snapped on his naked ass with a wet towel. He wheeled to face my former pack brothers.

"Maybe Seth doesn't want to lead the pack," he said calculatingly. "It's a helluva responsibility. How about it Seth? Feel like taking over for me?"

Seth hadn't uttered a peep since the council began. Now, he rose slowly to his feet and stepped into the circle to face Sam. In the past year, Seth had finally stopped growing, reaching his fully matured height, which put him a good three inches taller than Sam—the same height as Jake, although he hadn't yet muscled out quite as much as our Alpha.

Challenge and animosity radiated from every line of Sam's muscular form. I knew he was trying to bait Seth into doing or saying something rash and immature—anything that would convince the elders that my brother wasn't up to leading Jake's pack. But if Sam really thought his confrontational attitude would get a rise out of Seth, the joke was on him.

"No, Sam," he said calmly. "I won't take over for anyone. But I will help my pack brothers lead the search for our Alpha. We're not giving up on Jake, and I don't think the elders want that, either. Otherwise, why would they invite Carlisle, Jasper and Edward to be here tonight?"

Sam deflated faster than a balloon poked with a hat pin. Across the fire, I saw the elders, one by one, slowly nod in agreement. A few of them turned to whisper to each other. Billy was gripping my mother's hand, his weathered face creased with a mixture of hope and anxiety.

"I think we need to get this meeting back on track and address what's really important," Seth said, his voice calm and commanding. I had a sudden flashback to how he'd taken charge that awful day in my mother's kitchen, when I'd been sure my world was collapsing around me and the only thing I could think to do was sit on my imprint with my teeth at his throat.

"We all want what's best for the packs and our tribe, and right now that means finding Jake," Seth said.

"Dr. Cullen, would you tell us what your family is doing to find Jacob and Renesmee?" my mother asked, seizing the opening Seth had made to divert the meeting in the direction we wanted it to take.

Carlisle stepped a few paces closer to the elders, still maintaining his distance from the fire. The glow of the firelight underscored his unearthly beauty, and I hoped it wouldn't remind the elders of their innate distrust of all vampires.

"We've been backtracking along the trail established by Nahuel's captors," he said. "Unfortunately, we haven't yet been able to locate the exact spot where we believe Jacob and Renesmee were captured. We believe it is near the barn where Nahuel and Leah were attacked, but we haven't been able to find that structure yet."

Goat-face interrupted. "Wait. Captured? Do you assume this rogue vampire has them?"

Behind me, Edward's low, anguished groan hit me between the shoulder blades with a stab of fresh guilt. If Carlisle had heard Edward's torment—and he must have, given that vampires hear everything—he didn't react to it. I cast a glance over my shoulder at Edward, and remembered Jake's description of how the mind-reader had looked when Bella was pregnant and dying. His eyes were hollow, and his shoulders hunched forward, as if he would collapse in on himself if anyone so much as brushed against him.

"That seems the most logical explanation for Jacob and Renesmee's disappearance," he said, continuing to address the elders. "We have come here tonight hoping to enlist the packs' aid in searching for our family members."

"What would you have us do?" goat-face demanded.

"We ask that you allow Jacob's pack to join our search," Carlisle answered. "Until now, we have been limited in the distance we could cover and the time we could spend because my family is so few. We need to range farther and spend more time looking. The extra numbers and skills of Jake's pack will give us that ability."

If Jacob had been here, Carlisle wouldn't have had to ask for help with anything, I thought, swallowing down my remorse. Jake would have given it immediately. So would I, actually, if I'd been in charge as his beta.

Sam stepped rudely and arrogantly between Carlisle and the elders.

"We can't risk the lives of so many pack members on what could already be a lost cause," he said, raising his voice to be heard over the low growl that was rumbling out of Edward. Billy moaned and hid his face in his hands. Mom wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders and glared angrily at Sam.

Sam's face softened. "I'm sorry, Billy," he said quietly. "We have to face the very real possibility that Jacob is already beyond our help."

He turned his attention to the other elders. "We don't know where Jake is or if he's even still alive. What we do know is that this rogue vampire and his coven are still out there. They're murdering humans and we need every available pack member here to protect our people and our lands."

As Sam spoke, a few of the elders nodded in agreement. My heart plummeted to my toes in the same instant my stomach headed north again, pushing bile into my throat. Would they really refuse to allow anyone to help find Jacob? The packs were bound by tribal law to follow the council's commands. If they said no, it wouldn't stop me from joining the Cullens, but most of the other pack members had much more to lose than I did if they disobeyed the council.

I took a step closer to the elders, drawing their attention back to me. "Look, I've seen what Joham can do," I said, purposefully meeting their eyes one by one. By now, they all knew what Nahuel and I had been through a few days ago. "We need to find him and stop him before he ever gets to our lands. To do that, we need to find Jake because that's where Joham will be, too."

"Leah's right," Jasper agreed. "Initially, Joham might have taken Nahuel as a diversion, hoping we'd let our guard down and give him an opportunity to take Renesmee. But if he has her now, and has Jacob, too, he's not going to be satisfied that Nahuel got away. He's going to be back."

"So send the half-breed to him and maybe he'll leave the tribe alone," Sam sneered, casting a glare over my shoulder at Nahuel.

I saw red. Literally. Sam's belligerent face swam before my eyes in a crimson haze. I turned on him, snarling, and whatever he saw in my face was intense enough to actually make him retreat a step.

"Fuck you, Sam Uley!" I screamed, shaking my finger in his face. "No one is fucking sending Nahuel anywhere."

His face purpled instantly … and drained of all color almost as quickly. He stared at my hand—my left hand—as if I were holding a hissing viper to his throat. The ring on my finger caught the light and scattered tiny, shattered prisms across Sam's shirt front. His jaw flexed, and his lips curled back from his white teeth. Hate-filled and icy, his eyes held mine for a long, pregnant moment. I held my breath, waiting for him to make a move that would finally bring Nahuel into the circle and at his throat.

Before Sam could do or say anything, Seth diverted his attention, striding boldly forward to place himself between my ex and me.

"I'm sure you spoke without thinking just now," Seth said quietly, his dark eyes glittering with uncharacteristic anger. "I'm sure, now that you've had a moment to think about it, you realize handing Nahuel over to Joham would be breaking the pack law against harming another wolf's imprint."

Seth's round-about accusation hit Sam like a slap. He blanched and backed up a step. Whether he liked it or not, Nahuel was my imprint. He could rage and challenge my desire to marry Nahuel, could even reject his right to be on the res, but he couldn't fight the pack's one unbreakable law. That law had protected Renesmee against Sam's bloodlust six years ago, and it would keep Nahuel—and Anjali, even if she turned out to be a betrayer—safe as well.

In a move that, more than any other, illustrated why Sam would never be the Alpha that Jacob was, he dropped his eyes from Seth's and turned his head slightly to the side.

"I'm sorry," he muttered stiffly. "I wasn't thinking. Of course you're right. Pack law binds us to protect all wolves' imprints, regardless of their … heritage."

Seth studied Sam for a moment. He probably didn't trust Sam's apparent submission any more than I did, but like Jake, he knew when to pick his battles. Without waiting for any kind of confirmation from the council, he turned to Carlisle and Jasper.

"We'll help you, doc," he said, confidently. "What do you need?"

Jasper didn't even try to hide his satisfied smirk. "Just show up first thing tomorrow with your guys." His golden eyes flickered to me. "We need Leah and Nahuel, too. With their help and Anjali tracking, we should be able to pick up the trail and follow it all the way back to the barn where Nahuel was being held. We think that's where Jake and Nessie were when they got grabbed."

I fought down another wave of nausea at the thought of having to go back to that hellhole, but if it would help find Jake, I'd dance into that fucking barn naked and singing the national anthem. And at least they were done excluding me.

"It's agreed, then," goat-face said with an air of finality that said the matter—and the meeting—was closed. "Seth will lead his pack in assisting the Cullens in their search for Jacob Black." He hesitated, his eyes drifting to where Billy sat clutching my mother's hand so tightly his knuckles were white.

"We wish you good luck and Godspeed," he added, demonstrating for the first time that night that maybe he wasn't the complete asshole I'd assumed he was. Without another word, he rose, signaling the meeting was over, and the elders and other pack members began to leave the circle.

I turned to look for Nahuel in time to see him rise from the ground, brushing dirt from his fingertips. Deep gouge marks scored the earth where he'd been sitting. I'd wondered how he'd managed to stay silent through the tense moments. Guess now I knew.

Before Nahuel reached me, Seth swept me up in a smothering hug. He didn't say a word, only held on to me like he'd just rediscovered something precious that he'd given up for lost. My arms came up to hug his shoulders, even though he was really too big to embrace comfortably.

"I'm sorry," I choked. My nose was smashed against his vast chest and I had to struggle for air. "I'm so sorry, Seth. I fucked up. And then I didn't know how to fix it. I should have asked you first before I said anything but … I d-didn't kn-know what else to do."

_Oh, fuck. Why the hell am I crying again?_

Seth pushed back to look at me. I was even more appalled by his tears than my own. "S'okay, Leah," he said, his voice low and husky. "Thank you for having so much faith in me." He took a step back, but kept his hands on my shoulders, and ducked his head to keep our eyes at the same level.

"We're going to find Jake and Renesmee," he said, his dark eyes intense and determined. "And then we're going to get you back in the pack where you belong. We're going to fix everything."

Glittering and angry, Sam's eyes met mine over Seth's broad shoulder. They turned hard and hate-filled when his gaze ranged beyond me to where Nahuel stood waiting patiently. A chill scurried down my spine, despite the overwhelming heat of Seth's embrace. I knew without a doubt that if Seth and the council had allowed it, Sam would have personally delivered my imprint to Joham.

My eyes must have hurled that accusation at him as emphatically as if I'd spoken it aloud. Realizing Sam was still standing behind him, Seth released me and turned to face our former Alpha. Nahuel's heat replaced Seth's as he pressed his length against my back and looped his arms around my waist from behind.

"I know you all think I'm an asshole right now," Sam said, his voice icy and rigid. "But everything I've said and done here tonight was to protect our tribe, our packs and my children."

As if he hadn't yet fucked up my night badly enough, he salted the wound that he always knew waited, open and oozing, on my soul.

"You'd understand if you had kids of your own."

SSW/SSW/SSW

Dreaming. I knew I was dreaming.

Part of my unconscious mind actually remembered the council meeting. Sam's hate-filled words. Seth's easy forgiveness, and the relief and gratitude of my other pack brothers. The drive home in my mother's car, so exhausted and emotionally drained that I fell asleep before we reached the house. Being lifted and carried and tucked into bed, surrounded by warmth and comfort and Nahuel's spicy-sweet cinnamon scent.

I was home, in my bed, snuggled up next to my imprint.

There was no way I was back in that fucking cold, bleak barn. No way I was watching Sam, Emily and their spawn playing Frisbee on the snow-covered ground visible through the hole I'd bashed in the barn wall when I jumped Joham's lackey.

I was dreaming, and I knew it.

That didn't help at all.

I stood inside the dark barn, at the edge of that jagged, gaping hole, laughing like a loon at the antics of the Uley clan. Nahuel's strong, scarred arms wrapped around me from behind. His warm body shook with laughter, too.

Suddenly, the snow was gone and the small, brush-clogged clearing around the barn had turned into a sprawling open lawn that was lush and emerald green, and bounded on all sides by towering, sentinel-like trees in full leaf. The Uleys' Frisbee was gone and they were all playing croquet.

To one side of the wickets, my dead father and my undead doctor sat side by side, comfortably and companionably, at a white wrought-iron bistro set. They were sipping tall, narrow dew-covered glasses of iced tea topped with springs of mint. They laughed and applauded as Sam's daughter whacked a ball through a wicket.

Everyone was dressed like something out of the Great Gatsby, and while the style worked for Carlisle, even in my dream Dad looked like he was wearing someone else's clothes.

The blue-striped ball rolled across the lawn, coming to rest against the side of Carlisle's too-shiny white patent leather shoe. He reached down, picked up the ball and held it out toward Sam's daughter. The little girl, all dark dancing braids and cotton-candy-pink frills and sugar-sweet giggles, skipped over to the table. Her chubby little fingers reached for the ball.

As she retrieved the toy from Carlisle's hands, their fingers brushed lightly. Sunlight sparkled off his skin, casting a myriad of rainbows across her little face and hands.

Suddenly, Sam's colossal, black wolf form careened into the vampire, tipping over his chair and carrying them both down to the grass. His wickedly long, sharp teeth ripped into Carlisle's prone body, tearing huge white chunks of flesh from his face, throat, shoulders and chest.

I screamed wordlessly, struggling against Nahuel's grip. I had to help Carlisle. Had to save him. But my imprint held fast, and I could feel his body still shaking behind me. Still laughing.

Wolf-Sam gnawed off Carlisle's right arm, and then, just before turning his attention to the doctor's left, speared me with his yellow glare.

"You'd understand if you had kids of your own," he rumbled in a sonorous, malevolent growl. "Then you'd understand."

"Quite right," Carlisle agreed, proper and placid as ever as his breath hissed and rattled through the ghastly, gaping wounds on his face and throat. "Quite right. You would understand if you were a parent."

"If you had kids," wolf-Sam repeated before dipping his head and ripping open Carlisle's stomach.

"Daddy! Daddy! Do something," I screamed at my father, who'd continued to blithely sip his tea throughout the horrific scene.

Dad finally looked at me and smiled brightly, raising his glass in salute. "Nothing is impossible, sweetheart. Remember that."

Nahuel's arms tightened around me, and his left hand dropped to press into my abdomen, driving my ass back against his erection. It was hard and hurtful … and _cold_. I screamed again, realizing now who—what—held me from behind.

"Nothin's impossible, sweetness," that silky whiskey voice whispered in my year. "Nothin' a'tall."

I snapped awake. Pain rippled along my jaw as I struggled to contain the shriek trapped behind my gritted teeth. My muscles contracted painfully with the effort to remain immobile so that I wouldn't wake Nahuel. My heart thundered so loudly in my ears that I could barely hear his low, even breathing over the rush of it.

By some miracle, he wasn't sleeping with an arm and leg draped over me, as he normally did. Quietly, I slipped out of bed and out the bedroom door. My stomach kindly waited until the door clicked shut softly behind me before attempting to launch itself out of my mouth.

I made it to the bathroom just in time to pay homage again to the porcelain god. The force of my heaves drove me to my knees, and I clutched the cold bowl as my stomach rejected what was left of the lovely pancake dinner Nahuel had made for me. When the last of my stomach contents was swirling away with the flush of water, I sagged onto my butt between the toilet and bath tub.

This was the most terrifying dream yet, but even so I couldn't believe it had actually made me vomit. I was mortified and disgusted with myself.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

Just as I'd done with every one of those fucking, vivid dreams, I turned each hazily remembered fragment of this one over and over in my mind, trying to ferret out any meaning. As with every other dream, I was coming up blank on any possible meaning behind this one.

I slowly levered myself off the floor, and grabbed the vanity for support when a wave of dizziness swept through my head. I could actually feel it move from ear to ear behind my eyes before traveling down my throat to nudge provocatively at my stomach again. I breathed deeply, drawing air in through my noise and expelling it through my mouth in an effort to quell my queasiness.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck. Guess it's a good thing I agreed to let Carlisle have one more look at me tomorrow before we start out on the search._

It was time to 'fess up to what was going on with me, whatever the hell it was, and get some help. I mentally ticked off the symptoms I'd discuss with Carlisle tomorrow: Vivid dreams. Frequent dizziness and weakness. Barfing at random times of the day and night. Crying at the drop of a hat. Sudden, inexplicable exhaustion.

_What is wrong with me?_ I wondered again, turning on the tap and letting the cool water run over my wrists. I picked up the glass tumbler we kept on the sink and filled it.

As I raised the glass to my lips, I suddenly heard my father's voice, as clearly as if he was standing in the tiny room beside me. His tone was full of humor and love … and just a hint of reproach.

_Nothing is impossible, Leah. Nothing._

The glass slipped from my fingers and clattered into the sink. Water splashed on the front of my nightgown, but amazingly the glass didn't break. I stood there stunned, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My heart was racing and I couldn't get an even breath.

Before I could really think about what I was doing, I was on my hands and knees, tearing through the accumulation of stuff hidden away in the vanity cabinet beneath the sink. When I found what I was looking for – crammed in the back of the cabinet behind an old can of Seth's shaving cream and a ripped roll of toilet paper – I flopped on my ass on the floor and just stared at what I held.

Eight months ago—long before Charlie proposed or Nahuel arrived in Forks—my forty-six-year-old mother had the kind of scare that makes every woman an expert in prayer.

Too embarrassed to go to the drugstore herself, she'd slipped a twenty into my hand one morning, explained what she needed, and asked me to make the purchase. By the time I got back with the requested item discretely tucked into a plain white paper bag, she'd gotten her period and the scare was over.

We'd laughed about it and I'd even jokingly offered to show her how to roll a condom onto a banana. But I'd secretly felt jealous and humiliated and just plain _hurt_ that my mother would be so insensitive to my feelings as to risk an unplanned pregnancy—and then ask _me_ to buy the pregnancy test for her.

There was no way I was going back to the drugstore to ask for a refund, so I'd thrown the pregnancy test into the cabinet and quickly forgotten it was there.

Until now.

_It's not possible. It's just not possible._

_Is it?_

I wasn't sure I could figure out how to use the damn thing. I vaguely remembered Rach complaining she couldn't read the first one she took when she and Paul got pregnant the first time.

Was the fucking thing even any good? Didn't these things have an expiration date or something? It'd been lying in a cabinet for more than half a year.

_It's not possible. It's NOT._

If it was impossible, what was the sense of wasting a perfectly good test? If it wasn't possible, what was the harm in taking it?

_It's not possible._

_But what if it is?_

My hands shook as I ripped open the box.

* * *

><p><em><strong>End Note<strong>: Just call me the queen of the cliffee and have yourselves a happy New Year!_


	27. Over the Wall We Go

_**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who held back their desire to choke the life out of me after last chapter's cliffie. Of course, by now you should know that I'm not going to make it easy on Leah, or any of you, so this week's update is Jake POV. Lots of you wanted to know what happened to Jake and Renesmee, so here we are!_

_MunkeeRajah and Evelyn-Shaye worked their magic on this chapter again, and caught a couple of significant plot holes that I missed plugging the first time through. Doh! They are the ooey, gooey icing on the top of my Bavarian cream doughnut!_

_Last time I checked, Twilight still belongs to Stephenie Meyer. I, however, own a Charlie Brown Christmas Tree that's going back in the box this weekend._

* * *

><p>Chapter 27 – Over the Wall We Go<p>

**Jacob POV**

I woke up screaming.

Instinct was in control, and my body automatically began to pour out the energy that would warp it from man into wolf. Heat and force radiated from my center, rippling down my limbs, preparing to lengthen, expand and strengthen. I was barely conscious, but my brain welcomed the rush of power and sense of invincibility that came with phasing. In seconds, the change would be complete, and I would be powerful, strong and safe.

But in the heartbeat between the initial burst of energy and the beginning of my transformation, a small, warm form slammed down on my chest.

Renesmee?

"Jake, stop!" she shrieked in my ear. "Don't phase!"

Only the overpowering instinct to protect my imprint kept me from ripping out of my skin.

The first thing you learn about being a werewolf is that you never phase when you're touching someone—or even just near them. If the outpouring of energy doesn't toast them, your wolf form will crush or rend them before you can even think twice about it. The scars on Emily's face are a constant reminder to every member of both packs of what can happen when someone is too close to a wolf while he's phasing.

Ness knew this too, so I couldn't imagine why she would jump me now.

I didn't have time to think about it, either. I had less than a second to react, to drag the power out of my limbs and back to my core. A younger, less seasoned wolf wouldn't have been able to stop. The backlash hurt like hell, and for a few seconds, I felt as breathless as I had when Leah sucker-punched me in the 'nads. When the power had finally retreated back to the reservoir deep inside, the worst of the pain receded, leaving behind a dull ache in the muscles of my arms, legs and back.

Breathing like a two-pack-a-day smoker who'd just run a marathon, I opened my eyes to find my imprint's frightened face hovering above me. I was on my back, lying on the hardest mattress known to man, and Ness was on top of me, her tiny body covering as much of my larger form as she could manage.

"What the fuck, Ness?" I croaked. My mouth and throat felt desiccated.

When she saw that I was really awake, and that I wasn't going to wolf out beneath her, she wilted in relief. Her beautiful face crumpled like she was about to cry, and she dropped her forehead onto my bare chest.

"I'm sorry, baby," she mumbled against my skin. "Just give me a moment, please. You scared the crap out of me."

_I'd_ scared _her_? I was pretty sure the only reason my shorts weren't loaded right now was because my stomach felt like it'd been empty since Christ was young.

I didn't know what was going on or where we were, but putting my arms around her was always the natural thing to do. While I waited for her to calm down, I rubbed her back with my right hand. My left came up to finger her curls. Something heavy, cold and gleaming caught my eye.

_What the hell?_

Metal manacles—Steel? Iron? —loosely encircled both my wrists. Now that I was aware of the ones on my arms, my brain also registered the same heavy, cold weight on both ankles. None of the metal bands were connected to anything—no chains or ropes held me in place. But then, they didn't really _need_ to be attached to anything to effectively cripple me.

My gut clenched and I swallowed hard. Renesmee's seemingly hare-brained move had just saved me from a fate worse than death.

A phasing body could easily rip through fabric, rope and even wood. Metal was another matter, and it was why no one in our pack—not even Sam—wore a wedding band. Metal resisted the change in a way no other material did. Phasing while wearing a piece of metal was a good way to lose a digit or a limb.

Or, in my case, four.

I'd planned to do the same thing Paul had done for Rachel, and have Renesmee's name tattooed on my ring finger after we were married. Thanks to her, I'd still have my left hand to do that. I wrapped my arms tighter around her shaking form and buried my nose in her hair. My mind was racing.

Where the hell were we? Whoever had put those manacles on me—and it could only be Joham or one of his lackeys—had to've known it was an effective way to keep me from phasing. But _how_ had they known? It wasn't exactly something we werewolves talked about freely.

Renesmee didn't permit me to hold her for long, and pushed herself off me after a few moments. I got my first good look at her face and my heart somersaulted painfully. Her huge chocolate eyes were red-rimmed and exhausted, and her normally flawless skin was splotchy and hot, like a human girl who'd spent an entire night and half of the next day crying.

I didn't know it was possible for an immortal to look so strung out. My mouth moved independently of my brain.

"Jeez, Ness! Are you okay? You look like hell!"

She snorted and scrubbed the back of her hand over her mouth. "Thanks, Jake. You really know how to flatter a girl. We've been kidnapped and dumped in some hole in the ground. So, no, thanks for asking, but I'm _not_ okay. And for the record, you don't look so hot yourself."

"Shit, I'm sorry," I mumbled, glancing at my surroundings for the first time.

We were in a small, cramped room that was three times as long as it was wide—I could cross the width in a single stride. The ceiling was so low that I wouldn't be able to stand up straight. At one end of the room was a tiny stainless steel sink and toilet, and the odor coming out of both of them was pretty rank. Above the sink were a few shelves with some dusty junk on them. An intimidating, heavy metal door dominated the other end of the room. Halfway down one long wall was the bed I'd awoke on; it was really nothing more than a high-legged cot with a beaten, stained pad of batting thrown on top of it.

The walls, floor and ceiling all seemed to be made of a rough stone, like something hewn out of rock. The space resembled a tunnel that had been sealed off to create a sorry excuse for a prison cell.

"Where are we?" I asked, slowly sitting up on the bed. The floor actually felt cold under my bare feet, reinforcing the impression that we were somewhere deep underground. My head swam like I'd been on a two-day bender. "How did we get here?"

Renesmee moved to the sink, retrieved a cup from the shelves, filled it from the tap and brought it back to me. The water had a sulphurous smell and tasted worse, but I gulped it down gratefully. When I'd finished, she took the cup from me and smoothed my hair off my forehead. I hissed in pain as her small fingers brushed over a tender spot.

"They beat you to within an inch of your life—or tried to," she whispered. Her dark eyes filled with tears and her delicate chin quivered.

"Ah, crap, don't cry, baby," I begged, grabbing her hand. "It kills me. I need you to vamp up here and tell me what's going on so I can figure out how to get us out of here."

She sucked in a shaky breath and nodded, keeping her eyes on mine. "Okay, what do you remember?" she asked.

Still holding her hand in my right, I rubbed at my sore jaw with my left. My brain felt sluggish and weighty, as if I was swimming underwater wearing heavy boots. And a parka.

"I remember Leah going off on her own," I began, then glared at her, recalling something else. "I also remember you going after her alone, which was unbelievably stupid."

She rolled her eyes like a teenager with an attitude problem, which, I guessed, she essentially was.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she snorted. "I was mad at you, I was mad at Leah and I went off and did something dumb. You can be pissed at me later. What's the last thing you remember?"

I closed my eyes, letting the memories and images play out on the blank screen behind my eyelids. Anger and pain washed through me as I recalled Leah defying my Alpha command and breaking the pack link. She'd abandoned me—and Renesmee—in the middle of nowhere. Even though I hadn't really seen her go at the time, an image of Leah's bushy-tailed ass disappearing into the trees stabbed at me. Her betrayal hurt as much as my aching body.

I wanted to wallow in my pique for a while, but more memories flooded in.

With my connection to Leah broken, I'd focused every ounce of my awareness of my bond with my imprint and used that to pull me through the forest. I'd been close to reaching her—very close—when the attack came.

I opened my eyes. Ness was watching me closely, as if she knew I'd have trouble making sense of what I remembered.

"There were five … maybe six? … full vampires, not hybrids. They hit me hard, all at once," I said, shaking my head at the memory. "How did I not know they were coming?"

"I think they have a shield, kinda like Mom, but that can block physical perceptions, not just powers," Ness replied, dropping down beside me on the squeaky cot. "I didn't hear them coming either. They must have grabbed me first, then doubled back to get you."

Between their sheer number and the element of surprise, they'd had all the advantage. I hadn't stood a chance, even though I'd fought like I had. I didn't even remember the blow that put me under. I wondered why they hadn't just killed me. Why stick me in here with Renesmee and give us the chance to escape? I mean, I could understand why they'd keep _her_ alive … I ruthlessly cut off that line of thought. I couldn't allow myself to think about that or I was going to lose my shit.

To distract myself, I poked at a frayed hole in the leg of my cutoffs. At least they'd put my pants back on me. Or maybe Ness had. Either way, I was glad I wasn't buck naked and in danger. That would have been _really_ humiliating, I thought wryly.

"How long have I been out of it?" I asked, hoping she'd say a few hours.

She didn't immediately answer. Her eyes slid warily to the door, as if she expected it to open at any minute. "A while," she muttered, never peeling her eyes off the massive slab of locked metal at the end of the room.

"Ness, how long?" I knew damn well she wasn't hedging because she was unsure of the answer; like all vampires, she had a flawless sense of time. Her internal clock was better than any geo-synchronized satellite gadget.

She finally looked back at me. "About seventy-two hours," she said, grudgingly.

"Shit!" My jaw dropped open and I just gaped at her. Finally, I found my voice. "What the hell did they do to me?"

Tears filled her eyes again, and a sick feeling settled into the pit of my stomach. What had they done to _her_ while I was out of it? I didn't want to know. I had to know.

"Ness …"

"They haven't hurt me Jake," she cut me off, anticipating my next question. "Yet."

"Show me," I demanded. The fist in my gut was gripping tighter. She wasn't telling me everything and it scared the hell out of me. I needed to know that they hadn't … _done_ … anything to her while I was out of it. She wouldn't be able to hide that from me if she showed me her memories instead of simply speaking them.

"No!" She jumped up off the cot, as if she couldn't stand to sit still a moment longer, and began pacing the length of the room.

From the time she was a little girl, she'd only refused to share her gift with me when she was trying to hide something. Bile rose in the back of my throat at the thought of what she might be trying to hide now. I opened my mouth to tell her not to be stupid, but she cut me off.

"I _promise_ you they didn't hurt me. Look, it will be easier if you just let me tell you everything without interrupting, okay?" She paced past where I sat and reached the back wall in six long strides. She braced her hands on the sink, her back to me, and paused as if she was collecting her thoughts. After a few moments, she straightened, pivoted on her heel and resumed her pacing, heading toward the door.

"You were unconscious when they brought us here," she said, her rapid strides taking her past me again. "They hooded me and tossed us both in some kind of box. There were a lot of them. Full vampires and hybrids. I had no idea Joham's coven was so large."

She reached the door and paused again. "Anjali's been holding out on us," she growled, giving the door a savage kick. I jumped, startled by her anger.

"Maybe she didn't know," I ventured. I didn't want to believe Seth's imprint had been less than honest with us.

"Unless she was living under a rock apart from the rest of the coven, she had to know the numbers we'd be facing," Renesmee said, turning to lean her back against the metal door. "When we get out of here, I'm going to kick her ass, just as soon as I'm done kicking Leah's first."

I chuckled. Her rage was about as impressive as that of a wet kitten, and I really wanted to kiss her whole face. I stifled the urge. Not only was it a totally pussy thing to want to do, it probably wouldn't be really appropriate given the current circumstances.

She sighed, shook her head and resumed pacing. "Whatever. They dumped us in here and pumped you full of animal tranquilizer. I recognized the scent."

I wasn't surprised she knew what they'd shot me up with; Carlisle had been very thorough in her education. She probably could have passed a medical licensing exam in any state and several foreign countries.

"You had enough tranq in your system to keep you out for eight hours," she said. "They've been coming back about every six to give you another injection, feed and water me, and ensure we're still here."

"How many?" I asked.

"One hybrid every time," she replied. "Sometimes she's got a full vamp with her, too, although not for the past two times."

"How come I'm awake now?" I wondered, confused. "Did they screw up the last dosage?"

Shame, profound and pitiful, swept over her lovely face.

"No, they got it right," she said, dropping her eyes to the floor. She wouldn't look at me, and my heart rolled painfully in my chest. "I waited until they were gone and then I sucked out the tranq."

She swallowed hard. "I had to suck a lot of blood out, too. I spit most of it out—the part that had the drug in it. But when I could taste that your blood was clean … then it tasted even _better_."

She finally looked up at me, her eyes swimming with tears and guilt. "I'm so sorry I bit you, Jake." Her lips started to tremble and two fat tears spilled over, streaking down her porcelain cheeks. "I tried not to swallow, I really did. But I was so f-f-fucking … th-thirsty …"

I was off the bed and had her in my arms before the sobs really started. "I sh-should have sp-spit it _all_ out," she cried. "I should have stopped sooner."

I felt like shit that she was crying, but I couldn't help marveling at the way her convoluted little brain worked sometimes. Instead of being relieved, or even proud, that she'd figured out a way to beat their efforts to keep me subdued, she was hung up on the fact that she'd drank from me. Didn't she realize I'd open a vein myself if it meant I could keep her safe and protected?

"Holy hell, Ness, we're locked up at the mercy of a bunch of evil, psycho vamps and you're upset that you drank a little blood?" I snorted into her hair. "That is _so_ not even close to the top of our list of worries."

"I wanted to have a perfect record like Mom and Aunt Rose and Grandfather," she sobbed, rubbing her pert, runny nose against my bare chest. _Yuck_. "I n-never wanted to drink from any h-human, let alone from _you_!"

There was no arguing with her when she was like this.

"Well, I think the fact that you saved me from maiming myself when I first woke up lets you off the hook for taking a sip while I was out of it," I said, lifting her in my arms and carrying her back to the bed. I sat down with her on my lap and rubbed her back while she calmed down.

"I didn't know what else to do," she finally said. "I just wanted you awake so you could figure out how we'd get out of here." She looked at me expectantly.

"Well, getting out of this room might not be too difficult, if there's only one or two opponents to deal with, and they don't know that I'm awake. We'd have the advantage of surprise," I said, thoughtfully. "Of course, we don't know what's beyond that door."

_Or even why we're both still alive. Start with what you do know_, I told myself.

_One: Joham has us. But where is he?_

"Have you seen Nahuel's father?" I asked her. "Was he one of the vampires that captured us?"

"No," she said, confidently. "They were really clear about that. From what I could gather from their conversation, he's nearby awaiting the … _birth_ … of another hybrid. He's focused on that, right now, but once the mother … uh, delivers, he'll be back. I got the impression their orders were to hold onto us until he's ready to deal with us."

She fell silent. We both could guess just what Joham would do when he showed up.

"Okay, so Joham's not a factor at the moment, but likely to become one real soon," I said. "All the more reason to get out of here as soon as possible. We want to be long gone before he shows up."

"Agreed," she said, a shudder wracking her small body. She pressed closer to my side.

_Two: Every Cullen and wolf on the Olympic Peninsula is probably already looking for us._

"Our family will come for us," I said.

"Agreed," she repeated. I could feel the tension easing from her body at the reminder that her parents and our whole extended family would stop at nothing to rescue us.

"We need to do everything we can to make their job easier," I said. She nodded again and watched me patiently, waiting for my brain to formulate a plan. The thing was, I was pretty sure she _wouldn't_ like what I was coming up with.

I held up my left hand and studied the shackle around my wrist. It looked like it might be iron. It kind of smelled like iron, too, which meant it was a bit softer than a steel band would have been. We might have gotten lucky.

_Three: I have to get out of these shackles._

"If we're going to have any chance once we get past that door, I need to be able to phase," I said.

I held both hands up in front of me and stuck my legs out so she could see the shackles around my ankles. The bands weren't tight enough to cut off my circulation or even to rub uncomfortably, but they weren't going to slip off on their own, either. They were just tight enough that I couldn't slide my hands or feet through them—easily.

"These fucking bands have got to come off."

She chewed on her bottom lip and studied my feet pensively. "I don't know what to do about that," she said. "I tried breaking them when we first got here. I figured if Nahuel could crush Grampa Charlie's gun, I should be able to snap some metal bands. But I couldn't budge them."

_Four: I have one major wolf-given advantage while in human form—an accelerated healing ability. _

"Ness, they _have_ to come off," I repeated. "Something's got to give."

She looked up at me confused. I waited for her to get it.

"Jake, I just _told_ you I can't break them, they're too strong, and—"

Realization dawned and her eyes filled with alarm. She jumped off my lap and skipped back a few feet.

"No, no, no! Jacob Black, I am _not_ breaking your bones to get you out of those things!"

Hearing her say it aloud settled a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Thanks to Victoria's newborns, I knew really well what crushed and broken bones felt like. I sure as hell wasn't looking forward to experiencing that again, even if it was on a much smaller scale. But I didn't see any other solution, either.

With the bones in my hands and feet broken, I'd be able to work them out of the metal cuffs. Then, Renesmee would need to set them quickly, by hand, as best she could so they'd heal as close to right as possible. It wouldn't be perfect and would hurt like hell, even after the bones knit, but I should still be able to function. Anything that didn't heal right … well, I could have Carlisle fix it later, I reasoned.

I struggled to keep my voice calm and even. If she thought I was freaking out, there was no way I'd convince her to do it.

And it _had_ to be done. We needed to get out of here before Joham showed up.

"Ness, listen to me," I said, reaching across the short space between us to grab her hand and pull her back into my arms. She came, but held her body stiff and unyielding as I settled her between my thighs. I knew that every fiber of her being rebelled at the thought of intentionally hurting me. I totally understood that feeling.

"Bones break much more easily than metal," I said, trying to sound confident and reasonable. She wouldn't meet my eyes, and stared down at our joined hands. "Fortunately, mine heal quickly and easily, too."

"If we time this right, I'll have plenty of time to recover before they check on us again," I said. "When they open the door, they'll find a big, bad wolf waiting for them on the other side."

She was shaking her head, still resisting.

"C'mon, Ness, you know this is the only way," I insisted, rubbing both hands up and down her arms. "It won't even take that much. Maybe you can stretch the metal first so that you won't even have to break my hands—"

Vampire-fast, she grabbed my face in her small hands and crashed her mouth down on mine. At the same time, she opened her mind to me and poured her fear and love—for me, for our family, for us—through the connection.

Desire ripped through my gut and clenched into a tight fist in my groin. I was instantly hard and trembling. It took every ounce of self-control I had to break the kiss. As I pulled away, I gentled the movement by kissing and licking away the tears on her cheeks.

"Baby, we're going to be okay," I whispered. "But you _have_ to do this. I'm sorry."

She shook her head again, stroking my face, her little fingers tracing over the stubble on my jaw. "The timing is off, Jake. They'll be here in less than two hours. That's not enough time for you to heal."

"Shit," I muttered, my fingers twisting and bunching the cotton of her T-shirt where it fell above her hips. I wasn't happy about the delay, but I wasn't going to let her abandon my plan over it, either.

"So we wait," I said, holding her eyes. With her standing and me sitting, our faces were at the same height. "I'll pretend to be out of it. Let them shoot me up. Once they're gone, you suck the drug out again and we get me out of these shackles. By the time they come back a second time, I'll be ready."

Her lower lip began to quiver again. I groaned.

"Ness, _please_ don't cry. I can't take it."

"Oh, shut the fuck up," she snapped, releasing my face to wipe the moisture from her eyes. "I'll do it, but I reserve the right to cry about it. I h-_hate_ that I'm going to have to hurt you so badly."

I had to smile at that. "I know you do, baby, and I love you for it."

She smiled shyly in return. "I love you, too."

My stomach rumbled loudly in reply, startling us both, and then sending us into fits of giggles. Her laughter was, hands down, the best sound in the world at that moment.

"I don't suppose our captors left a Big Mac lying around here anywhere," I joked. "Actually, I'm so hungry I'd even settle for a salad or a piece of fruit."

She stepped back from me and dove under the cot. Her muffled voice carried over the sound of something being dragged over the stone floor. "You, my hungry man, are in luck."

When she stood, she held the handle of a large plastic cooler. She hefted the box onto the cot beside me and popped open the lid. I looked inside. The cooler was full of fruit—apples, oranges, even a few pairs—and what looked like plastic-wrapped sandwiches.

My jaw dropped open and I did a triple take, looking quickly between her and the cooler and then back again. "What the fuck?" I gasped. "They left us food? What, are these the world's most courteous killer vampires?"

She sobered immediately. "I don't think courtesy has anything to do with it Jake."

She reached into the cooler, removed and unwrapped a sandwich, and handed it to me. I took an experimental bite. It was surprisingly good ham and cheese on rye. Could have used some spicy mustard, but what the hell. I was hungry enough not to complain. I began wolfing down the sandwich.

"I think they need us—or rather, me—in good health for what Joham has planned."

My appetite died instantly. The food in my mouth became as appealing as a heap of maggots. I wanted to vomit, but forced myself to chew and swallow.

"Shit, Ness," I muttered, throwing the half-eaten sandwich on top of the discarded plastic wrap that she'd left on the bed. "Don't even think about that. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

She took a deep breath, rewrapped my half sandwich and placed it in the box. She covered the cooler, placed it on the floor and then sat down beside me on the bed. She took my shaking hand in both of hers.

"Jake, we need to think about it," she said. "We need to talk about it, too."

I didn't want to do _either_, even though I knew I was missing something, some reason why Nahuel's father left _me_ alive, too, instead of just keeping her. I knew what Joham wanted from my imprint, and thinking about it was going to bring that half a sandwich right back out the way it had gone in. But Renesmee wasn't going to let this go so easily. Obviously, she'd had seventy-two hours to think over what she was about to say. I waited.

"I know my family is coming for us and that your plan has a good chance of working," she began. "I know we have every reason to hope that we'll get out of this and be fine. But things can always go wrong. Joham's had me in his power for three days now. It's nothing but luck that he's been too distracted to act on what we both know he really wants from me."

I swallowed hard and gripped her hand tightly. I was probably hurting her, but I couldn't force my fingers to let go. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you," I repeated, but my voice sounded feeble and my promise fragile, even to my own ears. I couldn't look at her.

A fragment of my mind was snagging on something she'd just said, about it being only luck that Joham had left us alone so far. Everything I knew of this vamp made me think he wouldn't let luck play a role in his plans. What was I missing? I needed to think about this some more, but Renesmee was relentless.

"Shit happens Jake," she pressed. "Sometimes you can't prevent it; you can only prepare for it. People who hope for the best and plan for the worst are the ones best equipped to survive when the worst happens."

My eyes shot to hers. I'd never heard her talk this way. Like a world-weary immortal who'd already seen too much. Like she was a century older than me. I didn't like it.

"Ness …"

She ruthlessly cut me off. "I do _not_ want to lose my virginity to Nahuel's psychotic father," she said harshly. "And if you want to make sure that doesn't happen to me, then you need to help me, Jacob Black."

My brain split in two.

The eighty percent portion of the split was horrified at what she was hinting at, and was in total revolt at the suggestion that I make love to her for the first time in this shithole of a prison with an axe hanging over our heads. The twenty percent portion—the part that was all possessive Alpha wolf, the part that was howling "mine, mine, mine"—immediately put my damned double-crossing dick on high alert.

That animal twenty percent of my brain was quickly gnawing away at the noble, human eighty percent. When had this conversation spiraled out of control and how had it taken my brain and body with it so quickly?

"Ness, this isn't right," I said weakly, trying to reclaim my equilibrium. The pressure in my crotch protested painfully, disagreeing with my mouth. "This isn't how we want our first time together to be. You shouldn't be jumping into this out of fear."

"This isn't about fear," she countered immediately. "I'm not asking for this because I'm afraid and I want you to fix it. I'm asking for this because I want to control this decision. I choose _you_. Not only for my first time, but for all of eternity."

She climbed into my lap and shoved me backward on the bed. I was a weak asshole; part of me wanted to give in, so I let her topple me onto my back. She straddled me and braced her hands on my chest. Sliding her hips down my body, she rubbed her crotch over the fly of my cutoffs. I moaned at the sensation of her damp heat pressing down on my raging hard-on.

"Don't let Joham take this choice away from me," she whispered, her voice low, begging and urgent.

She grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and in one smooth motion pulled it over her head. At the sight of her perfect tits encased in nothing but a few scraps of blue lace, every molecule of air in my lungs rushed out of my body in a single concentrated gasp. My last functioning brain cells went on a lunch break. Apparently recognizing that the hall monitor had left the building, my hands seized the opportunity to reach up and settle on Renesmee's skin, just below the miniscule strands of string and lace that she was passing off as a bra.

_Hot. Soft. Feels so fucking good._

"There's just enough time, baby," she murmured, leaning forward so that her breasts pressed together and her cleavage dipped low over my face.

"Please, Jake," she begged. "Please make love to me."

* * *

><p><em><strong>EN:**__Yeah, I guess this is where I should say I'm sorry for torturing you all with the second consecutive cliffie in a row. What can I say? I'm evil. Will it make you all feel better if tell you that the next chapter will NOT end in a cliffie? _

_SSW passed it's 500th review last chapter. I'm amazed at the response and deeply grateful for every kind word you've all shared. Kycee was the 500th reviewer and as a thank you I asked her to tell me what outtake she'd like to see next. Her idea was marvelous and challenging. I'm working on it and I think you'll all enjoy it once it's done._

_See you all next week!_


	28. Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere

_**A/N:** Lots of positive reaction and interesting theories about last chapter and what's going to happen with Jake and Nessie. We'll get back to them soon. Since I've been brutal with the cliffhangers these past few chapters, I'm giving you all a reprieve - and some answers - with this chapter. Enjoy the peace, because it won't last!_

_As always, MunkeeRajah and Evelyn-Shaye graced this chapter with their marvelousness (yes, I just made that word up). They are the cat's whiskers!_

_You all know who really owns Twilight._

* * *

><p>Chapter 28 – Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere<p>

**Leah POV**

My knuckles had barely brushed the door of Carlisle's study when my vampire doctor winged it open; apparently, he was eager to see me. _Polite of him to wait_, I thought wryly, since he'd known I was there from the moment I pulled up outside the house in Mom's obscenely noisy Buick. The damn thing knocked so badly you wouldn't need vampire perceptions to hear it indoors. In the shower, playing some heavy metal in the background for ambiance.

I was pretty sure my heart was hammering that loudly, too.

"Come in, Leah," Carlisle said with a warm smile, as if he were unaware of the booming in my chest. "Please have a seat."

He gestured to a plush-looking leather chair in front of his desk. I dropped into the chair and deposited the beat-up backpack I'd been carrying on the floor. I expected Carlisle to take the seat on the opposite side of the massive mahogany expanse. Instead, he hitched his hip on the corner of the desk and leaned toward me companionably.

"How are you feeling?" He thought my visit was just a follow-up for his treatment of the back injury I'd suffered while rescuing Nahuel.

I'd intentionally timed this checkup for when the search party was organizing at the practice field. Nahuel hadn't been pleased at the scheduling conflict, wanting to be with me to hear Carlisle's reassurance that my back injury was healed. It had taken some fast talking, but I'd finally convinced him to wait for me at the field.

I felt certain that we were alone in the house, but I wasn't taking any chances on being overheard—by my imprint or anyone else. I lifted Seth's old Spiderman backpack onto my lap—lame, I knew, but it was the only thing I could find this morning. I unzipped it and pulled out a pen and legal pad, on which I'd already scrawled a note.

"I'm great, doc," I replied, slapping the pad on the desk beside him. Carlisle raised his perfectly arched eyebrows questioningly. I gave him what I hoped was a meaningful look, and used the pen to underline the note.

_Is it possible?_

Barely allowing him a second to read the message, I laid the pregnancy test on top of the pad, just below the written line, window-side up.

He leaned over the pad, bending his flawless face closer, as if he wasn't sure what he was seeing. His golden eyes scanned the note again. He took in the bold blue plus sign—it couldn't have been any clearer to read if it had been flashing fucking _neon_.

His mouth dropped open, then snapped shut. He exhaled slowly—stalling for time because we both knew he didn't _need_ to breathe—and pointedly did _not_ look at me for the several seconds it took to exhaust his air supply.

I'd never before seen any vampire—let alone Carlisle—look so utterly surprised. Watching a vampire be struck speechless was an interesting experience. The play of emotions across his face occurred so quickly, I'd have missed them all if I'd been merely human.

Shock. Disbelief. Reluctant acceptance. Concern. Remorse. And briefly, before his usual cool, collected mask slammed back down, something indefinable.

Finally, after what seemed like a thousand years, but was probably no more than half a minute, he lifted his eyes to mine and regarded me wordlessly. He extended his too-white hand, palm up, silently requesting my pen. I handed it over. His script was quick, flowing and elegant. He laid the pen down on the pad and slid the paper toward me on the desk.

_**If this is yours, I suppose the answer must be 'yes.' **_

I snatched up the pen. My handwriting was not nearly as neat as his, mostly because my hand was shaking so badly I had trouble holding the damned thing.

_Of course it's mine! How could this happen? I was here, under your care, for two days and you didn't realize I'm pregnant? _

I furiously underlined the last few words for emphasis.

_How could you miss this?_

He visibly cringed. Reaching behind him, he plucked a second pen from a cup on his desk.

_**I wasn't looking for this. I was focused on caring for your injury. I'm so very sorry. I will need to do some tests, including a repeat of the urine test. Do you know when conception might have taken place?**_

Now I was getting pissed. I'd come here for answers. Not to have him ask me questions I couldn't answer myself. I scratched so furiously on the pad that my pen ripped through the page at the end of my next message.

_How should I know? _

I knew I was being irrational, but I was freaked out and needed someone to blame. Remembering the tests Carlisle had done a few years ago trying to determine why I no longer had a menstrual cycle, I scribbled angrily:

_I didn't even think it was possible because YOU did all kinds of tests that said I was infertile!_

Remorse and embarrassment were clearly warring in Carlisle's golden eyes, and if I wasn't so scared shitless, I'd actually have felt badly for him.

_**I'm so very sorry, Leah. The tests seemed to indicate this would not be possible. In understand an unplanned pregnancy can be very upsetting.**_

That quick, my emotions swung from anger to regret. Damn. I was jumping all over the one person I needed most right now. And I wasn't even upset that I might be pregnant. I was terrified of having a vampire pregnancy. Or a half-vampire pregnancy. Or a half werewolf pregnancy. Shit! I was scared that I didn't know what to expect, and even more rattled that Carlisle didn't seem to know, either. I'd been counting on him for reassurance.

I shook my head and murmured so low I was pretty sure only he would hear: "It's not your fault."

_**Nevertheless, I hope you realize I will do everything in my power to help you.**_

I nodded. I knew_. _I might be freaking out on a number of levels right now, but one thing I was confident about was that Carlisle would be there for me. Vampire or not, it wasn't in his nature to do anything less than his best for the people he cared about, and, for some reason beyond imagining, I was one of those people.

_So, what do I do now?_

_**First, we'll retake the initial test. Then we need to determine how far along you are, and if the pregnancy is progressing as a normal human gestation would, or if it's more like a hybrid pregnancy.**_

I swallowed hard and nodded. That was my biggest fear—that I might be facing what Nahuel's mother or Bella had gone through. I kept telling myself that even if I was, even if this baby was going to be fully developed and ready to rip its way into the world in just a few short weeks, I had advantages that a human woman in my situation would not have. My wolf healing abilities just might allow me to survive the—my mind could barely wrap around the thought—_delivery_.

But even if I survived it, could Nahuel? He'd nearly lost his mind over my close call in the barn. My going through a vampire pregnancy would be his worst nightmare come true.

_**Once we have those answers, we'll be able to discuss your options.**_

I read that line twice, blinking and bewildered. Options? Did I have any? It seemed like my options had been sparse my whole life.

_**What is the earliest possible date of conception?**_

I shifted in my chair uncomfortably, heat rushing up my cheeks. He was essentially asking me when Nahuel and I had sex for the first time. It was like having your mother ask you if you were "being safe" or your father picking up tampons for you at the supermarket.

Of course, I knew the exact date—how could I ever forget it?—and I jotted it quickly.

_**So six weeks is the most advanced the pregnancy could be. Are you experiencing symptoms?**_

I nodded and scrawled a quick answer.

_Vomiting, nausea, vivid dreams, mood swings, dizziness, weakness, exhaustion._

Carlisle raised his golden eyebrows.

_**These are all normal early pregnancy symptoms. When did they emerge?**_

I thought about it. If I had to pin down the first time I'd felt not quite right, it would have to be that day in the barn, when I nearly passed out after finding my imprint nailed to a wall. At the time, I'd written my weakness off to the shock of the situation, but in hindsight I realized that my reaction was so far out of my norm, it had to be related to my condition.

_Five days ago._

_**Have you been able to keep food down at all?**_

_Yes. Nausea and vomiting are intermittent. I've been able to keep down most of what I eat._

Some obscure emotion flitted quickly across Carlisle's face. If I hadn't been watching him so closely, I might have missed it. The brief flicker of sentiment had almost looked … hopeful?

_**Any sensation of movement?**_

It took me a second to figure out that he was asking if I'd felt the baby move.

_No. Is that bad?_

His smile was still guarded, but now I definitely saw a hint of relief playing at the corners of his upturned mouth.

_**No, it may actually be very good. Bella felt movement nearly right away. The fact that you haven't yet may mean your pregnancy is more similar to a normal human gestation. **_

Of course, he didn't say (write) what both of us were thinking: If this was more like a human pregnancy, it might actually be _survivable_.

_**I'd like you to take a second test, just to confirm. Then, I'd like to see if we can get an ultrasound. **_

I looked at him, surprised.

_You have all the stuff to do that here?_

Carlisle's smile was smug.

_**We Cullens pride ourselves on being prepared for anything.**_

Yeah, but a pregnancy test? Maybe because of Renesmee. Or Anjali. I squelched that last thought. I didn't want to think about Seth's imprint right now. I nodded, and Carlisle stood, moving to a cabinet behind his desk.

While he collected his supplies, I tore the pages we'd filled off the legal pad and ripped them into tiny pieces before tossing them in the trash can beside the desk. By the time I was done, Carlisle was back, holding out a fresh pregnancy test. When I took it from him, he nodded toward a side door and murmured, "You can use the _en suite_ facilities."

Of course, the bathroom was amazing, all granite and marble and high-polished fixtures. If I weren't in such a hurry to take Carlisle's test, I'd have enjoyed lingering in that lavatory. I'd never thought of myself as a bathroom junkie, but damned if the Cullen mansion wasn't making me realize I had a bit of a fixation on beautiful bathrooms.

I ripped open the box Carlisle had handed me. This test was different from the one I'd dug out of our vanity cabinet in the wee hours this morning while Nahuel slept obliviously in my bed. Not only was it well within the expiration date stamped on the package, this test looked both more sophisticated and simpler at the same time. Instead of a plus or minus sign—or a varying number of lines, like the ones Rach had once told me she used—this one had a little window in which the words "pregnant" or "not pregnant" would appear in about three minutes. At least that's what the directions said.

For the second time that morning, I squatted over the john and peed on a stick. When I was done, I capped the stick per the directions, rearranged my clothes, washed my hands, retrieved the test and headed back into Carlisle's office—all without looking at the results.

He was sitting at his desk, fiddling with some small hand-held device that had a funny-looking wand connected to it by a short, coiled cable. He looked up expectantly when I entered the room. Had it been three minutes yet? I wasn't sure, but I handed him the test anyway, still not looking at that little window.

I'd been grappling with the possibility that the first test was so far past its expiration date that I'd gotten a false positive. But this one was definitely going to be accurate. What did I want it to say? I didn't know.

Carlisle took the test from me, flipped it over and read the results. Without a word, he looked up at me again, his expression carefully neutral, and turned the stick so the window faced me. I'd have been able to read it from across the room.

I'd never seen one single, solitary word look so incredibly _huge_ before.

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing and just waited for him to tell me what to do next. He held my gaze for a few moments before rising from his chair. Carrying the strange device, he came around the desk and stopped in front of me.

"While you were in the restroom, I confirmed that we are alone in the house and no one is in the area to overhear us, so please feel free to speak," he said.

"Okay." I still couldn't force my voice to be much more than a whisper, but it wasn't like he'd have a hard time hearing me, no matter how weak my volume. "What next?"

He held up the device. "I'd like to do a Doppler and see if we can hear a heartbeat."

"Uh, shouldn't it be too soon for that?"

"In a normal human pregnancy, a heartbeat can often be detected through a transvaginal ultrasound as early as five and a half weeks," he said. "If this pregnancy is progressing as Bella's did, we won't be able to hear anything at all; the vampire amniotic sack will prevent it. This device isn't as reliable as what we would have in an obstetrician's office, and of course we won't be using a vaginal probe, but if we can hear a heartbeat, well, that would be reassuring on several levels."

I nodded thoughtfully, processing what he'd just said. "Will it be able to tell us how far along I am?"

"Probably not." Carlisle shook his head regretfully. "However, it could be a valuable clue. Of course, we'll monitor the pregnancy over the next few days to see how things progress. If we hear a heartbeat now, and see no significant changes in the next day or so, that would seem to indicate a more normal pregnancy."

Suddenly, it struck me that Carlisle was being very careful not to say the word "baby." He'd said "the pregnancy," and even "your pregnancy," but he hadn't said "baby" or "fetus." Not once. Why was he doing that? And why did it bother me?

"Okay, so what do I do?"

He gestured to the long leather couch on the far wall of the room. "Please lie down and lift your shirt."

I crossed to the couch, lowered myself onto the cool leather and hiked the hem of my T-shirt up under my tits. Carlisle knelt on the floor beside the couch, a large squirt bottle in his right hand.

"You should unzip your jeans and lower them a bit," he said, his tone pure professionalism and quiet calm. "We don't want to get any of this gel on them."

I huffed in annoyance, but followed his direction. When my clothing was out of the way, he poised the bottle over my still-flat stomach and paused.

"This will be a bit cold," he warned, then squirted a liberal dollop of the gel on my skin. Once he had my tummy well slimed, he turned on the Doppler and hovered the wand above my abdomen. "Ready?"

I nodded once, and Carlisle touched the wand to my stomach, applying firm, even pressure.

Sound filled the still and quiet study.

At first, it was nothing more than the susurrant whisper of a hidden stream or small burrowing creature moving through a crumbling tunnel. Then, as Carlisle manipulated the wand slowly over my skin, a single theme resolved over the soft muddle of swishing and hissing. A steady, speedy _tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump_ pulsated in a rapid gallop. Its pace reminded me achingly, poignantly of another life-changing sound—the rhythm of Nahuel's heart.

I gasped, heaving a great, ragged gulp of air into my lungs, struggling against the hard jolt of shock that hit me in the chest.

It wasn't amazement at having my suspicions confirmed. It wasn't even surprise that this was not only possible but actually _happening_. No, it was utter astonishment at the swell of sheer, unadulterated fucking _joy_ that surged through me as the sound of that tiny, powerful, perfect heartbeat filled the room.

"Oh, my God," I breathed. "Oh, my God."

Carlisle—unflappable immortal, level-headed professional that he was—had been trying so hard to play it close to the vest and keep his emotions under wraps. At the sound of that heartbeat, and my obvious reaction to it, he broke into a radiant smile. He looked like someone had just told him he was going to be a grandfather again. His surreally perfect face lit up with exactly the proud, elated expression that I imagined _my_ father would have worn if he'd been alive to share this moment with me.

For the first time since I'd been made painfully aware that the stories about the Cullens were _true_, I didn't care at all that Carlisle was a three-hundred-year-old vampire and, supposedly, my natural enemy. It didn't matter that he smelled like a mixture of scorched sugar and something you'd find rotting at the bottom of a dumpster behind a butcher shop.

Ignoring everything I'd once believed about the evil, blood-thirsty nature of leeches—not to mention the cold slime smeared all over my stomach—I threw my arms around my vampire friend and hugged him for all I was worth.

SSW/SSW/SSW

After several minutes of hugging and crying—well, I cried while Carlisle smiled like he'd just won the lottery—we began to plan. And disagree.

Carlisle did a quick yet thorough examination, even drawing some blood that he said he would test later. After declaring my vitals were all perfect, he began to assemble a medical bag of items he would need to keep tabs on me for the next few days while we were searching for Jake and Renesmee.

"Doc, let's keep this between you and me for now."

There was no way I was ready to let anyone know about this, especially not Nahuel. The happy glow in Carlisle's kind eyes dimmed slightly when I asserted that I would not be giving my imprint the news of his impending fatherhood just yet.

"If you think that's for the best …" he murmured, trailing off expectantly, as if by giving me an opening, I might quickly change my mind.

"It is."

I was firm on this. Although Carlisle seemed to think that hearing a heartbeat was a good sign that my pregnancy was more normal than paranormal, I needed to be completely sure that everything was fine, progressing smoothly and safely before I broke the news to Nahuel. If he thought for even a moment that I was going to end up like his mother, well, to say he'd lose it would be an understatement.

Even if I could convince him that I would be alright, that our baby wasn't going to hurt me, I still didn't know how he'd feel about being a parent. It was one thing to want to be with me, and another entirely to accept responsibility for a new life. It's not like he'd made love to me knowing the possible consequence could be pregnancy. I'd told him I _couldn't_ get pregnant. His choice to be with me had been made without accurate information, so how could I blame him if he decided that he didn't really want to be a father to our baby?

_Our baby._

The thought sent a thrill through my body and the ripples of it shook my heart. I'd thought I'd known before what I was missing by not being able to have a child. I'd thought I'd sounded the depths of that particular hole in my life. Now, I realized that I'd never fully understood what I'd been lacking until it wasn't absent anymore. It felt exactly the same as realizing that Nahuel was the missing piece of my soul.

Carlisle interrupted my sappy mental rambling by loudly shaking two pills into the palm of his hand. He added two more from a second bottle, then held the fistful out to me along with a glass of water.

"What's this?" I asked, taking the pills and the water from him. I looked at the tablets. They were the size of a horse suppository, for fuck's sake! How was I supposed to swallow all of them without choking?

"Prenatal vitamins and an herbal supplement to help with the morning sickness," he said, slipping both bottles into my backpack. "Please take two of each daily."

Crap! Of course I'd need to pay attention to my nutrition now. Were there other health concerns I needed to think about—beyond the possibility that the pregnancy would end with my own baby ripping through my uterus? Dread curled through my stomach as a question occurred to me.

"Doc, what about phasing?"

He looked up from the medical kit. He'd slipped the Doppler device into it, along with several other items, including a tape measure and a blood pressure cuff. He looked startled, and I mentally congratulated myself on flummoxing him yet again today. I had to be establishing some kind of record for baffling a vampire.

"I honestly hadn't thought about it," he admitted. "It's likely you've already phased before you became aware of the pregnancy, so it seems logical to assume that your body and the fetus are coping with the changes. On the other hand, we really don't know what, if any, effect phasing might have. Perhaps it would be best to avoid the risk as much as possible."

I thought his reasoning was sound. Still … "How do I explain not phasing while we search for Jake and Renesmee?"

He studied me for a moment, slowly moving behind his desk, as if he felt the need to step out of my arm's reach for some reason.

"Alice and Esme are staying here, at the house," he began tentatively.

I knew this. Alice was hoping that by putting some physical distance between herself, the packs and Nahuel and Anjali – all of whom blocked her gift – her visions might clear enough for her to get a sense of where Joham had decided to take Jake and Renesmee. Plus, she and Esme were going to be keeping an eye on Mom and Charlie, although no one was going to tell _them_ that.

"Perhaps it would be best if you remained as well," he suggested.

I felt my mood swing like a tipsy toddler on a tire swing. Now I was annoyed. Carlisle knew that I _needed_ to find Jake. It pissed me off that he'd even suggest that I not go with the search party. He'd been around for centuries; surely he could think of a way for me to help find my Alpha and keep my baby safe at the same time.

"That's not going to happen," I said, hoping the finality of my decision was clear in my tone. Not only did I feel an obligation to help my pack brothers find our Alpha, there would be no good way to explain to Nahuel why I was staying behind.

"I don't need an excuse to stay here, I just need a reason why I'm not phasing," I continued. "Me staying on two legs is going to slow down the search party. I need a good explanation for why."

Carlisle sighed and shook his head.

"Perhaps additional caution is required to ensure your spinal injury is completely healed," he suggested.

It seemed flimsy to me, and I could see it leading to a whole lot of other complications—like Nahuel thinking if I wasn't well enough to phase, I wasn't healed enough for sex, either. I'd just have to deal with that if and when the problem arose.

"Okay, doc," I agreed reluctantly. "I got nothing better, so we'll go with your story."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Prevarication is not my strong suit, I'm afraid." His expression turned serious again. "Leah, I'll do my best to look after you while we're on the trail, but you will need to be careful and mindful of the changes taking place in your body."

"I'm pregnant, Carlisle, not crippled," I interrupted, miffed that he'd imply I was anything less than fully competent just because … oh. My internal rant ground to a halt.

_I'm pregnant._

Even saying it in my own head was overwhelming and terrifying and exciting all at the same time.

"Of course." He paused, weighing his words carefully. "But there has never been a pregnancy like yours. To the best of my knowledge, there has never before been a hybrid-shape-shifter pregnancy. We can't assume anything."

I bowed my head, ashamed at my over-reaction. "I'm sorry, Carlisle. I know you're trying to help me."

He nodded his acceptance of my apology and finished packing his medical kit. In addition to the equipment he'd need to monitor me, he was taking a shitload of emergency supplies. I knew they were for Jake and Renesmee. Neither of us needed to verbalize our hope that none of those things would be necessary.

Carlisle came around his desk and lifted my backpack from the floor. "Are you ready to go to the practice field?"

I took a deep breath, held it and released it. "Yeah, I guess I am." I followed him to the study door. With his hand on the knob, he paused and looked back at me, regret clearly written on his too-perfect face.

"Leah, for what it's worth, I'm sorry for the anguish that my incorrect diagnosis of infertility must have caused you."

Surprised, I shrugged. "I told you, it's not your fault." Then, because I felt an overpowering urge to both comfort him and finally say what was in my heart, I added: "I'm glad you were wrong."

His happy, paternal grin was back.

"So am I."

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><p><em><strong>End Note:<strong> Aaaahhhh. That was nice. Next chapter won't be so relaxing, so get ready! Meanwhile, if you're looking for something to do, the Sunflower Award nominations are open over at thesunflowerawards (dot) blogspot (dot) com and this year they've added a Best Wolf Story category. Just sayin'. Shameless, I know. But just sayin'. Thanks for sticking with the story. See you next week._


	29. Dead Men Don't Talk

_**A/N:** So, moving right along ... things are starting to really get rolling. For those of you who keep track of this kind of thing, there's more of the story behind us than ahead of us. Of course, that doesn't mean the rest of the story is going to be easy on Leah. Where would the fun be if I made it too easy?_

_Thanks to all who nominated me for a Sunflower Award. Voting opens on Jan. 29. All the nominees are just amazing and I'm going to be spending much of my dwindling free time reading all their stories!_

_Many thanks to my betas MunkeeRajah and Evelyn-Shaye. I love them more than that new car smell. Not that my current beat-up Mom mobile ever had that smell, but if it had I'd still love them more._

_Stephie Meyer. Twilight. Ownership. Respect the copyright. Yada, yada, yada._

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><p>Chapter 29 – Dead Men Don't Talk<p>

**Leah POV**

Father Time is a tricky old son-of-a-bitch, and he has a sick sense of humor. How else do you explain the perception that time speeds up when you're approaching a moment you dread? Then, when the moment arrives, and you just want it over and done with, what should only be an instant stretches into goddamned eternity. Seconds swell to minutes, minutes magnify into hours, and the hours evolve into an epoch.

I was having one of those endless, excruciating moments.

Our massive search party had just crested the hill that separated the forest from the small clearing around that bleak, hell hole of a barn where I'd found Nahuel staked to a wall. It had taken hours to retrace the route I'd taken, the one Renesmee and Jake had followed trying to catch up to me. Dread had compressed the hours into minutes.

With the moment when we'd have to step back into that fucking barn looming, immediate and unavoidable, my imprint was feeling anxious, too. He'd insisted on carrying me the whole way when Carlisle had told him I shouldn't phase because of my still-healing back injury. Now, when I moved my legs as if I would slip from his arms to stand, he tightened his grip on me and brushed his lips through the fine hair at my temple.

We were surrounded by my pack brothers, half of whom were probably reeling in shock that I'd allow myself to be carried around all day like a pampered princess. No one had said a word, but Paul, Beau and even Seth had raised their eyebrows when I'd told them I would only be phasing for a dire emergency. And Jasper, Rosalie and Emmett had been sneaking glances at Nahuel and me the whole day. Only Carlisle, who knew what was up, and Bella and Edward, who were too worried about their daughter to care what was going on with me, seemed to pay no attention to our arrangement.

I didn't give a rat's ass what any of them thought.

I'd have slowed the whole group down if I'd tried to keep up with them in my human form. Even a super-human she-wolf wasn't as fast on two legs as a group of vampires and four-legged werewolves. Having Nahuel carry me made practical sense; he was strong and fast and wouldn't get tired. Plus, it afforded us the comfort of skin-to-skin contact as we approached the place where we'd come so close to losing each other just days before.

I turned my face into his body and drew in a deep, fortifying breath of his sweet, sexy scent. Cinnamon and spice. Comfort and longing. _Mine_.

My right arm was looped around the back of his neck. My left hand rested over his heart, toying with the diamond solitaire he wore on a gold chain. Although I intended to avoid phasing if at all possible, there was always the chance I'd have to, so I couldn't wear the ring; I'd lose the finger it was on if I changed while wearing metal. Our compromise had been for Nahuel to wear it for me. Seeing it lying against his coffee-and-cream skin, nestled in the dip of his collar bone, was both comforting and arousing at the same time.

With my face pressed against his neck, my lips detected the frantic racing of his pulse. I knew I was right to keep the news of my pregnancy from him—for now.

He was already hair-trigger over returning to this miserable place. His stress level was only going to go up as the search advanced. Ultimately, we all hoped that our hunt for Jake and Renesmee would also lead to Joham. I was certain Nahuel wouldn't be able to handle confronting his father _and_ worrying about his pregnant mate at the same time.

Plus, given Joham's sick interest in supernatural spawn, I figured the fewer people who knew about _my_ baby, the better, even if that meant keeping the secret from the baby's own father.

"I do not want to let you go," Nahuel whispered against my skin, dragging my mind back to the moment. "I do not wish to see you in that place again."

I exhaled softly against his throat. "I know," I replied, matching his tone. "I'm not wild about the idea, either. But we have to do this. We have to find Jake and Renesmee."

He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly, but still made no move to release me. I let him resist for a few more seconds, before I gently patted his chest. "C'mon, Nahuel," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Put me down. Let's get this over with."

Nahuel set me on my feet and suddenly Carlisle was beside us, his golden eyes full of alarm. I glanced around at the other members of our group. We'd split into three teams so that we could approach the barn from multiple angles. Beau and Quil, the wolf members of our team, were staring intently toward the barn, their hackles raised and lips curled. A soft whine wheedled its way through Beau's clenched fangs. Something was up.

"Decay," Carlisle murmured in response to my questioning glance. "Corpses. Many, judging by the smell."

Terror swirled through my gut in the same second a blast of icy air swept past us. My senses weren't nearly as powerful in human form, but the wind was strong enough to carry the scent to me now. Carlisle's herbal supplements did nothing to stem the nausea that pushed into the back of my throat.

"There may be blood as well," Carlisle said quietly. "It's difficult to discern at this distance. The decay may be masking it." His gaze flickered to Nahuel. "Perhaps the two of you should remain here."

"No way, doc," I muttered around a mouthful of bitter, bile-flavored saliva. "I'm going down there."

I had to know whose remains—_Please don't let it be my friends!_—were in that barn. I hesitated before turning to my imprint. "You can stay here—"

"I go with you," he interrupted, his deep voice layered with annoyance and anxiety. "Always."

Obviously, he wasn't going to be convinced to stay behind. Arguing with him about it would just delay us and add to his unease. Rather than waste time trying to persuade my stubborn imprint, I turned to question Quil.

"Is the area clear?"

Quil rolled his huge brown eyes away from the dilapidated structure shrouded in that grave-like hollow of earth and focused on me. He huffed once, low in his throat—our pre-arranged signal for "yes," since I wasn't able to communicate with my wolf brothers through the pack mind. Carlisle confirmed Quil's assessment.

"Edward and Emmett have scouted the area and found no signs of anyone else," he said.

"Good enough," I sighed, starting down the shallow embankment toward the barn.

"Leah, wait," Carlisle called, bringing me up short. I raised a questioning eyebrow. "Perhaps the wolves should go first," he suggested.

_What the hell?_

I glared at him for a second, angry that he'd treat me any differently now that we knew about my pregnancy, then turned back to follow Quil's bushy tail toward the clearing.

The other members of our search party were already there, including the Cullens and the rest of Jake's pack. Everyone was facing the barn's ragged, yawning maw. The weak sunlight spilling a few feet past the doorway did nothing to illuminate the interior.

At the sound of our approach, Edward turned to address us. He and Bella both looked like hell—or as much like hell as two vampires could look—but the calm in his eyes eased a little of my fear over what was in that barn.

"Jacob and Renesmee aren't here," he said—for my benefit, since Nahuel and I would be the only members of the group who wouldn't be able to discern that by scent alone.

Relief made my knees rubbery, and I stumbled over my own feet.

Instantly, hands grasped my elbows to steady me—Nahuel's warm, electrified touch on my right and Carlisle's cool granite on my left. Carlisle realized what he'd done, and how strange it would look to everyone around us, when I glared at him and tried to pull my arm from his fingers. His golden eyes widened in barely repressed alarm and he jerked his hand away quickly.

"Knock it off, doc," I growled, hoping my stern look would warn him off. "I'm fine."

If he kept up this overly solicitous attention, or got any more handsy, the others were going to start asking questions. If they were paying attention to my interactions with Carlisle, it would be that much harder for him to monitor my pregnancy without drawing suspicion. And if Nahuel got even a whiff of what was really going on … well, I could forget all about participating in the search for Jake and Renesmee, because I'd be too busy scraping fecal matter off fan blades.

Fortunately for me, everyone else was too focused on what lay moldering away inside the barn to make much of Carlisle's odd behavior. Edward and Jasper stood in the door, poised on the stark edge where weak sunlight abruptly gave way to the inky blackness inside the barn. Seth paced forward to flank them, poking his snout into the gap.

With no words exchanged among them, one by one the three stepped inside the barn. After a few moments, Edward's voice carried, low and clear, through the opening.

"Carlisle?"

He blurred across the clearing and disappeared into the darkness.

The moment stretched and strained, shivered and groaned, until finally the tension of it snapped, and I found myself standing in that damned doorway. I didn't know how I'd gotten there, but I knew I had to go inside.

Nahuel was beside me, holding my hand and gently trying to pull me away from the door.

"Leah, you do not have to go in," he whispered, an imploring edge in his voice.

The petrified school girl had been cowering in her corner, but at his pleading tone, she peeked between her fingers and found her voice.

_Listen to him! Listen to him!_

I ignored both of them. I had to see what was inside that barn. It couldn't be any worse than what I'd already found—what we'd both lived through—the first time I entered this shit hole five days ago. Could it?

Holding my breath against the smell, I took one step forward … and waited while my eyes adjusted to the dimness.

_Fuuuccckkk. How many times can one woman be wrong in a lifetime?_

Corpses.

Dozens of them.

Stacked like cordwood along all four walls of the barn. They were in varying states of decay—how to explain that?—and for some the cause of death was obvious, like a ripped out throat or crushed skull. Others seemed to have no apparent injury. Of course, I was no medical examiner, and my super-human senses weren't nearly as sharp as when I was in wolf form, but even I could tell there was no blood anywhere in the barn.

Not even on the three female bodies laid out in an obvious, grotesque display in the center of the floor. The horror of the scene drew me forward, the way you find yourself pulled toward the light switch when a strange sound wakes in you the dark night, even though you know flipping on that switch is a bad idea. That it's going to reveal the monster in the darkness that you'd rather not see at all.

I felt compelled to examine those three bodies, and my feet shuffled forward.

Carlisle, who'd been kneeling beside the carcasses, examining them, looked up at my approach.

"Leah, I don't think it's a good idea for you to be in here."

I ignored him, not stopping my advance until I was standing beside him.

They'd probably been very beautiful when they were alive. It was hard to pin down their ages, but I didn't think any of them looked older than me. One might have even been a young teenager, the corpse was so petite. Lying side by side, they looked less—decomposed—than the other bodies. Did that mean they'd died a relatively short time ago? I didn't know.

But I was sure of one thing. Even _I_ could tell _how_ they'd died. The gaping, gory _craters_ where their abdomens used to be made it obvious what had happened to these women. Something had torn them apart—from the inside _out_.

_You stupid shrew!_ The school girl shrieked. _You're looking into your own future. That's going to be YOU!_

Though she'd been silent for a long time—almost long enough to imagine her gone—my inner wolf-bitch rose to my defense.

_No. That WON'T be you. Carlisle won't let that happen to you._

_He won't be able to stop it!_ The school girl screamed. _You'll die just like them!_

There's no telling how long that screeching argument would have raged inside my head if Nahuel hadn't chosen that moment to make a gagging, gasping sound behind me. I whipped around, startled; I hadn't realized he'd come into the barn, too.

_Idiot! Of course he would follow you._

My imprint was standing a few paces behind me, his trembling body rooted to the dirt floor. Both hands were clamped, white-knuckled, over his mouth, and his wide, horrified teak eyes were fixed on the bodies at my feet.

_Shit! He's losing it._

He'd been doing so well—even in the aftermath of his kidnapping—that I'd allowed myself to forget that the accumulated effects of all he'd been through were still very much with him. Starting with his aunt's murder and culminating in our fight with my would-be rapist, Nahuel had endured more trauma in the past two months than he'd probably ever experienced before in his very long life.

Now, confronted with this gruesome reminder of how his life had begun, he was finally collapsing beneath the weight of it all.

I took a step toward him, reaching to touch him. "Nahuel—"

My words ran out. I didn't know what to say or do to ease the burning misery etched on his beautiful face. His tormented eyes flashed to mine and held for a second. He repeated that retching, strangled noise and, without removing his hands from his face, turned and fled out the door.

I wasted precious seconds standing there stunned and speechless. I knew I needed to go after him, but the subtle waft of cold dread that had been curling in my gut from the moment I realized I'd have to hide my pregnancy from my imprint had escalated into a full-blown blizzard. It froze me in place.

What could I possibly say to him right now that _wouldn't_ give away the secret I was keeping to protect him?

Four sets of eyes—three vegetarian-vampire topaz and Seth's mahogany—regarded me with a mixture of empathy for Nahuel's reaction and annoyance at my lack of movement. Carlisle's quiet voice, layered with regret and concern, floated up from the floor near my feet.

"Go. We can take care of things here."

Swallowing hard against my own nausea, I nodded and jogged back outside. The other pack members were circling the clearing, obviously on alert, watching for any sign of Joham's lackeys. Emmett and Rosalie stood quietly near the barn entrance, and when I emerged, Blondie favored me with the kind of disgusted glare she usually reserved for Jake.

"What's your problem?" I snapped at her before I thought about it.

"I don't have one," she cracked back. She jerked her thumb over her shoulder toward the underbrush on the far side of the clearing. "_Yours _is behind that bush puking his guts out. You might want to go take care of him, since he's _your_ mate. His sister is already on her way to do _your_ job."

I whipped my head in the direction of Rosalie's gesture, and saw Anjali's back heading for the underbrush. I immediately took off running behind her. I didn't want her anywhere near Nahuel, especially not when he was so emotionally vulnerable.

"Wait!"

At my shout, and the obvious anger in it, she paused and turned back. Her perfect, inky black brows arched questioningly above her cool hazel eyes.

"Nahuel is very upset," she offered calmly as I came abreast of her.

"I fucking _know_ that," I snarled. "I'll take care of him. You go back to the others."

If she registered my rudeness, she didn't permit it to touch her serene, flawless face. She merely swiveled silently and started back toward the barn.

I continued in the direction Rosalie had indicated and found Nahuel on his knees, mostly hidden behind a bush. She was right: he was heaving like he would bring up his intestines. After a few more wet hacks, he sat back on his heels, head bowed, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

I dropped to my knees beside him and began stroking his back. I meant the contact to be soothing and comforting. Instead, it seemed to have the exact opposite effect on him.

He flinched away, dipping his shoulder and jerking out from under my hand as if my fingers burned.

"Please do not touch me," he begged. "I cannot bear it right now."

He flopped onto his butt, drew his knees up against his chest and buried his head in his arms. I fucking _hated_ it when he did that. He split my heart in two and bled it dry every time he assumed that broken, lost pose.

"I am sorry," he moaned, his words muffled and weak. "I am so very sorry."

I willed my voice to remain steady and calm. "Nahuel, you don't need to apologize for being sick or upset," I said. "But you do need to talk to me. I can't help you if you don't tell me what you're thinking."

He rocked silently, rapidly for several long heartbeats. Finally, he lifted his head and slid his fingers into his hair, digging his nails into his scalp as if he were afraid his head would rocket off his shoulders if he let go. His teak eyes, haunted and hollow, met mine.

"I remember her, you know," he whispered raggedly, totally confusing me.

"I don't understand, baby. Remember who?"

He began to gnaw on his full lower lip. Misery shimmered, filmy and liquid, in his eyes.

"My mother."

I didn't want to upset him more by telling him he was wrong—that he _had_ to be wrong—but I couldn't halt my astonishment from leaking out of my big mouth.

"That's not possible. You were just a baby. A newborn. There's no way you could remember her."

He groaned and shook his head, obviously frustrated with my dimness.

"You forget, always, that I am not human," he corrected, annoyance lacing through the agony in his tone. "A human child would not remember its birth, but vampires have perfect recall."

I rocked back on my heels, torn between being peeved at his petulant accusation that I could ever forget what he really was, and utter disgust at myself that he was—at least partially—right. The differences between us—his vampire-like beauty, perfection, speed, strength and immortality—were always present in the back of my mind. But I did tend to forget, probably intentionally, the full import of those differences.

"I remember everything I ever knew of her, from the moment I became aware of anything." The tears were spilling over now, slipping silently down his smooth, flawless cheeks. "She sang to me. Before I was … born. Her voice, singing a lullaby … that is my first memory of her."

His voice broke on a suffering sob and he dropped his head back into his arms. "Her screams as she died are my last."

What could I say to this? What could anyone possibly do or say that would finally absolve his tortured soul of the burden of guilt and horror he'd carried for so very long? I felt like a fool—a thoughtless, uncaring ass—for not having realized before that _of course_ he would remember his mother. Of course he would be able to recount, in excruciating detail, how she died. And of course, seeing the dead women in the barn would dredge up those memories.

Though he'd told me not to touch him, there was no way I could allow him to endure this self-inflicted torment alone. I moved forward on my knees and slipped my arms around him.

I thought he might push me away again. Instead, the tension in his shoulders released, and he twisted his body until he somehow ended up completely twined around me. My rump was in the cold, wet snow between his thighs, my legs splayed out to one side, and his long legs and arms wrapped completely around me. He clutched me to his chest so tightly I had trouble getting a decent breath.

"I am sorry." I could barely hear him; his face was buried in my neck, soaking the collar of my polo shirt with his tears. It made no sense for him to apologize to me, but I let him ramble.

"I am so very sorry, ñi piuque. If you knew the things I have thought … about us … about _you_ … the fantasies I have imagined … I am a monster. A vile, sick monster." He gasped roughly against my throat. "You should not allow me to touch you. You should send me away."

Moody, pregnant bitch that I was, I felt anger push aside my anguish.

_Why the hell are we back to this again?_

I laced my fingers through his hair and pulled hard, forcing his head back. Forcing him to look at me.

"Stop it," I ground out through gritted teeth. "Two days ago you asked me to marry you. Are you taking it back? Have you changed your mind?"

He gaped at me, bewildered by my apparent non sequitor. "What? I do not understand—"

"Have you changed your mind?" I demanded again. "It's an easy question, Nahuel. Do you _want_ to leave me? Have you fallen out of love with me?"

"Of course not!" he protested, indignation darkening his honey eyes.

"Then stop telling me to send you away," I snapped. "It's not going to happen. _Ever_. Do you understand?"

He watched me warily, with the caution a small, defenseless creature might use to regard an offered crumb. After a moment, he nodded once.

"I don't ever want to hear you talk about leaving me again," I hammered, even as an inner voice—wolf or schoolgirl, I wasn't sure which—whispered that I had no right to require this of him when I was keeping such a life-altering secret. "Promise me that you will _never_ say that again."

His lush lips compressed into a thin line. He nodded again, reluctantly, grudgingly.

_Not good enough, vamp-boy._

"Say it!" I ordered. "Out loud."

He exhaled forcefully, exasperated and resentful. "I will never again suggest we part."

I could see that he wanted to say something more—maybe some caveat that he wanted to add—but I didn't give him the opening. I was on a roll, and while I was blasting away at his demons of self-doubt and loathing, I took aim at the nastiest, most evil one—the one that had sat on his shoulder for more than a hundred years.

"Do you think your mother loved you?"

"What?" He cringed, caught between confusion and hurt at my sudden segue back to the issue that started this little dramatic tableau.

I was ruthless.

"When she was pregnant with you, when she was waiting for you to be born, do you think she loved you?"

His hands dropped away from me and he lowered his eyes, apparently finding the top button of my shirt suddenly fascinating. He shrugged, and I could see he was struggling for words.

"I suppose she must have thought she did," he said, still not meeting my eyes. "But she did not know what would happen to her. She did not know that I would murder her. If she had known—"

I cut him off. "She would have loved you anyway."

He shook his head emphatically, rejecting my words. "No. She could not have."

In that moment, I wanted to tell him so badly that I _knew_ he was wrong, and that I knew it because I was living it. Even knowing there was a possibility that I could die bringing our baby into the world, I still wanted it. Still loved it.

It would have been the perfect, sensible moment to tell him about my pregnancy. I even opened my mouth to say it, but the words that left my lips weren't what I'd intended.

"Nahuel, you know that she loved you, and that's all that matters," I insisted. "Every time you do this to yourself, beat yourself up for killing her, you disrespect the love she had for you. You demean her sacrifice. Do you think she would _want_ you to carry this guilt for so long?"

The fine muscles in his chiseled jaw worked, as if he were struggling to swallow something dry and foul-tasting. He still wasn't looking at me, and I'd had about enough of that. I seized his face in both hands and levered his chin until our eyes were level.

"Look at me," I urged, using that forceful, authoritative tone that I knew he couldn't resist. When his golden eyes finally met mine, the turmoil and suffering in them squeezed my heart painfully.

"She loved you."

_How could she not?_

"Do you think she would ever blame you? Or do you think she would blame the monster who was _really_ responsible? The monster who seduced her into loving him, impregnated her and then left her alone to deal with the consequences?"

His breath caught. The despair on his face was slowly giving way to some emotion that looked like it could become hope, if he would only allow himself to take that final step into the light of self forgiveness. I coaxed him toward it.

"She didn't have to die," I said. "Joham could have saved her, the way Edward saved Bella. Instead, he let her die. _He_ is responsible for that. Not you. You know that, don't you?"

"I do not know." His voice was small and bewildered, but under the pain I caught an undercurrent of something else. "I do not know anything but that I love you, and I do not want you to end up like her."

Chills scurried down my spine and for a second, the shrieking schoolgirl drowned out all other thoughts in my head.

_He knows! He knows!_

_No, he doesn't, _the wolf-bitch countered, confident and collected_._ _He wouldn't be sitting here, relatively calm, if he knew. He'd be having a total meltdown instead of a partial one._

And partly because he needed it, but mostly because I did, I looked him in the eyes—those beautiful, soulful eyes that meant everything to me—and told him what probably was the worst, most bald-faced lie anyone had ever told the one they loved.

"That will never happen to me, baby. It can't."

Until that moment, I'd only been omitting the truth. Now, I'd turned that omission into an outright lie and the screeching school girl called me on it.

_Liar! Fucking liar!_

_It's for his own good, to protect him,_ I refuted.

My father's voice whispered, barely perceptible beneath my internal din: _When we lie, it's almost always to protect ourselves, Leah, not to protect others._

For one split second, that kernel of remembered wisdom from Dad made me think I should do it—renounce the falsehood and tell my imprint the truth. In the next instant, I saw Nahuel swallow the lie, hook, line and sinker, and a profound, peaceful relief swept the anguish from his face.

"I know. I _do_ know," he breathed, drawing me back against his body. "I am eternally grateful to whatever fate that brought me to you."

I felt sick at the horror of what I'd just done, how monumentally I'd just deceived him. To mask my shakiness, I snorted derisively.

"That would be the same fate that made you wait a hundred and fifty years to find me, right?"

His warm lips caressed my neck before roaming upward to my mouth. Even though he'd just hurled like a toddler on a tilt-a-whirl, his breath was still sweet and intoxicating. My head spun. His palms cupped and smoothed my cheeks reverently.

"I would gladly wait a million more for you," he whispered, sealing his lips to mine in a searing kiss. "Nothing before matters. Only this."

His moment of crisis seemed to be past, but mine … I was pretty sure mine was just beginning.

The school girl agreed.

_Stupid bitch! How will you ever be able to tell him now?_

SSW/SSW/SSW

When we finally returned to the barn, I was surprised to find everyone waiting, doing nothing, including Seth and Paul in human form. I wasn't sure what I'd expected, but I thought they should be doing _something_. Burying the bodies? Calling the authorities? Scouting for signs of Jake and Renesmee?

Seth was standing with his arm draped around Anjali's shoulders, and while I didn't really want to be anywhere near her, I felt the need to talk to my brother. I went to him, Nahuel following along behind.

"What's going on?" I glanced at Jasper, Edward, Emmett and Carlisle, who were standing in a tight knot, speaking in that rapid, low way that was nearly impossible for a human to detect, let alone understand. "Why's everyone just standing around?"

"We were waiting for you," Seth said, sliding his gaze from me to Nahuel. "You okay, man?"

My imprint nodded and gave my brother a weak smile. "Yes. I was … overwhelmed, but I am fine now."

Anjali's impassive face pulled into a troubled frown, the first time I'd seen her show any real emotion beyond affection or lust—gag!—for Seth. "The bodies inside are very disturbing," she murmured. "Especially the three bred females."

I gaped at her. Bred females? Was she for real? I couldn't hold this back any longer. I had to confront her. I opened my mouth to accuse her, but Jasper beat me to the punch. Kind of.

"Anjali, could you help us out here?" His voice was mild, carefully devoid of any hint of anything negative or threatening. Was that for her benefit? Or Seth's?

She turned her attention to Jasper, but didn't move from Seth's side. "How may I help you?"

I rolled my eyes. She sounded as bland and patently unhelpful as a customer service rep trying to get off the phone and back to her coffee and _People_ magazine.

"We're wonderin' what you make of all this," he said, gesturing toward the barn. "Have you seen Joham do something like this before?"

"No."

Everyone looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to elaborate. When it became apparent she didn't intend to say anything more, Jasper pressed on.

"Is he aware of the Volturi?"

She nodded calmly. "Yes. He is aware."

Jasper's impatience was beginning to show on his lean face. Beside me, Nahuel shifted from one foot to the other—an uncharacteristic display of irritation. Seth looked annoyed, too, and I realized Jasper was probably unintentionally projecting a bit. I wasn't feeling it, but then that was probably because I had a deep well of my own anger to draw on when it came to my brother's imprint.

"Surely he must realize this is the type of thing that will garner their attention." Edward joined the conversation, obviously trying to draw her out.

She shrugged ambivalently. "Perhaps."

"Does he _want_ to get their attention?" Seth asked, sliding his arm from around her shoulders and trailing his fingers down to her hand.

Nothing else had penetrated her shell of indifference, but now Anjali seemed fixated on Seth's hand in hers. Her eyes never left their twined fingers.

"Perhaps he does," she whispered, tentatively.

"Why?" Seth persisted, tugging gently on her fingers.

"I don't know." Her voice, usually so aloof and confident, had taken on a pleading undertone, as if she was asking Seth to make the questioning stop.

"Maybe he's just batshit crazy," Paul muttered. Seth shot him an annoyed look.

"Joham may be crazy, but I don't get the impression that he's stupid, too," Jasper said, reclaiming command of the conversation. "This doesn't seem like the kind of thing he'd do unless he had a reason for it." He continued to study Anjali, who still hadn't looked up from her hand in Seth's. "Am I wrong?"

"No." And now, there was no mistaking the unsettled tone of her whisper. Her composure was rapidly slipping. An opportunity was staring me in the face, but I didn't know what to do or say to take advantage of it.

Maybe he sensed the same thing I did, because Jasper continued to focus on Anjali. Had he sensed her duplicity all along? Was it not just a figment of my imagination?

"Maybe you can help us with somethin' else, darlin'," he continued, his silken tone lacking any hint of the threat that I was pretty sure lurked beneath the surface of his words. "That vampire that attacked Leah, the one Nahuel killed, and they tore apart and buried—" He paused, giving her a moment to absorb the change in direction.

"Well, Seth's boys looked in all the spots where Leah and Nahuel buried the parts … and those holes are empty."

My heart began to hammer and terror coiled in my chest, curling in tight loops around the laboring organ.

Anjali's eyes snapped to Jasper's face and her hand tightened on Seth's so strongly my huge brother actually winced. She looked like she wanted to run—somewhere, anywhere—and hide away in a big, dark hole. I knew exactly how she felt.

"We're thinkin' that means someone came here and dug him up," Jasper continued. "Maybe reassembled him. Would you know anything about who that might be?"

My brother's imprint was shaking now, showing naked fear for the first time since I'd laid eyes on her in that clearing where Joham had sent her and her cohorts to capture Nahuel and kill me all those weeks ago. If I hadn't been dealing with my own impending breakdown in that moment, I might have felt gratified to finally see her snap.

When she didn't immediately answer Jasper, Seth pulled on her hand again, insistently. "Anjali, what's going on?"

She sobbed in soft, pathetic hiccups.

He'd been silent while Jasper plied his subtle interrogation, but now Edward hissed in frustration. "Why are you blocking me?" he demanded, his glittering eyes narrowing on Anjali. "What are you hiding?"

Part of me was relieved that someone else was finally confronting her, that her lying ass was getting called out into the broad, brutal light of day. Another part of me was back in that fucking barn, feeling hard, cold hands on my skin, hearing that whiskey and smoke voice, fighting the press of that icy dick into my flesh. Vaguely, I registered the heat of Nahuel's arms around me, but I couldn't claw my way out of the ice surrounding me to respond to him.

The harsh, ragged sound of my own breathing competed with Anjali's sobs for ascendance in my ears.

"His name was … is … Remy," she gasped, clinging to Seth's chest. "And if he is alive, then my father knows. He knows everything."

Even through the haze of horror surrounding me, I had to respond to that. I heard my own voice, as if from a great distance, sounding calm and unaffected, like I was discussing the weather or if the car was due for an oil change.

"Because you've been helping Joham, telling him our every move, all along, haven't you?"

I lost count of the number of startled gasps from the collected group. Every eye was trained on Anjali and me—Joham's lackeys could have picked us all off easily, so entranced was everyone with our confrontation.

Her hazel eyes shot to me and something hardened beneath her tears. And in that moment I knew—our dislike was mutual.

"Yes," she spat at me, baring her teeth like some small and vicious feral creature that would as soon bite you to the bone as look at you. "And if Remy really is alive …" she trailed off and laughed harshly, "… if he's alive, then you've been feeding him information too, Leah."

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><p><em><strong>End note:<strong> Yep. I'm back to the cliffie. Just can't stay away from them. It's a sickness, I know. Next chapter will be Jake POV. So how eager are you to see Jake and Renesmee pick up where they left off? Hmmmm? Reviews will get a tease for Chapter 30._


	30. Prisoner of Love

_**A/N: **__Sorry for the bit of a longer wait between the last chapter and this one. This was a bear of a chapter to write and it almost got the better of me. Just when I thought I was down for the count, the most wonderful betas in the world slapped my ass, toweled me off and shoved me back in the ring. Evelyn-Shaye and MunkeeRajah are the net under this highwire walker (50 points if you get that reference)._

_I think after you read this chapter you'll forgive me for the delay. If you do, please consider heading over to the Sunflower Awards (http : / thesunflowerawards .blogspot . com), where Season of the She Wolf has been nominated for best wolf story. Voting is now open._

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><p><strong>Chapter 30 – Prisoner of Love<strong>

**Jacob POV**

When Leah'd punched me in the nuts hard enough to make me puke, my brain hadn't been able to focus on much of anything beyond the agony. When the pain faded, worry took over, and all I'd really thought about was finding my beta—and then Renesmee, once I discovered she'd gone after Leah alone.

Still, I _was_ a guy, and beneath everything else my brain was dealing with, part of me had wondered if the blow to my package hadn't caused some permanent—or at least long-lasting—damage.

That would have sucked, to bust my balls before I'd ever gotten the chance to use them the way nature intended.

But now, with a half-naked Renesmee straddling me, her awe-inspiring tits swaying above my face … well, let's just say my fears about damage were definitely unfounded. My cock was in excellent shape, and the fucker was trying to punch its way out of my shorts to prove it.

The damn thing didn't care that we were locked in a shitty prison cell at the mercy of evil, psycho vampires. It wasn't concerned about getting caught or the unromantic setting, or even that—after we managed to escape—Edward would kick my ass for deflowering his daughter under these circumstances.

It was way too busy doing the happy dance in response to Nessie's plea that I pop her cherry. Its jubilation was quickly stifling my brain's attempts to hold on to reason and restraint.

I still had a few noble cells left somewhere in my body. My hands had been heading for the straps of her bra, and I forced them back down to her ribs—only slightly safer territory. Annoyance flashed in her eyes, and I saw the danger just a split second before she lowered her barely covered tits onto my chest and began licking and sucking along my collar bone.

"Baby, stop," I half-laughed, half-whined. "This isn't how our first time should be."

"Well then, rip the door open and carry me off to a posh hotel room with a king-sized bed and a Jacuzzi tub, and I'll be happy to wait another hour," she growled, nipping at the base of my throat. "But if you can't make that happen, then I say let's do this here. Now."

I tried again. "They could come back at any time."

"Nope." She licked the spot she'd just bit. "They're like clockwork. We've got two hours. Plenty of time."

_Punctual vampire kidnappers. Just my luck._

Her little tongue was washing away my willpower, and my eyes started to roll back in my head. My brain made another valiant effort to regain control of the situation.

"Ness, we don't have a condom," I groaned. My voice was shaking as badly as my hands, which had somehow found their way under the band of her bra. I pulled them back out.

In the last few minutes of our conversation, before Ness started practically dry-humping me, a thought had been percolating in the back of my brain. The nasty realization came to the fore now. Suddenly, I knew exactly why Joham had kept me alive—and imprisoned me with my imprint.

"Knocking you up is probably exactly what Joham wants."

I was running out of arguments, but this was a good one. I was sure it would be the deal-breaker for her.

But instead of getting pissed or frustrated and telling me I was right, Renesmee smirked.

_She looks way too pleased with herself._

She sat up, reached behind her in that amazing contortionist way that all girls seemed to be capable of, and unsnapped her bra. Shrugging her arms forward, she slid the scrap of lace off before tossing it to the floor. My eyes locked onto her naked breasts, and I rammed my hands under my own ass to keep them from following my gaze.

_Too bad these damn shackles aren't attached to anything._

"I won't get pregnant," she murmured, her voice oozing sexy, smug satisfaction. "I've been on birth control for the past year."

I was shocked, flabbergasted, fucking _bewildered_ by this news, and it was the only thing that could have torn my attention away from her tantalizing tits.

"What?" I choked stupidly.

"Jake, there is no way I'm going to end up like my mom and go through an unplanned pregnancy," she said, sounding insulted by my surprise. "As soon as I got my period for the first time, Carlisle and I started talking about contraception. Since I have a menstrual cycle, I can use birth control just like any other woman."

"And you're on it?" I squeaked, my head still swimming in shock.

Of course I knew she had a cycle; I remembered well the drama of her first period and coping with a bleeding adolescent in a houseful of vampires. Still, she'd never mentioned birth control. How did I not know she was on it? What else didn't I know?

"Yes." She smirked again. "So what's your next excuse?"

I had one last argument and was reluctant to give it up, but I was cornered.

"You might bleed. They'd smell it."

She snorted in disgust. "That's it? That's the best you've got?"

I nodded vigorously—desperately.

She leaned forward again, just brushing the tips of her hard little nipples against my chest. I clamped my lips shut. If I so much as parted them to breathe, I'd latch my mouth on her, and then this whole debate would be resolved.

"I won't bleed," she purred, wriggling her crotch on top of my painful boner. "That's one thing I _don't_ have in common with human women. I don't have anything for you to tear." Her voice dropped to a sultry whisper, and she ghosted her lips over the outer shell of my ear. "I wasn't born with that pesky little membrane."

Every synapse in my brain short-circuited and the whole system fizzled into overload. Disjointed, bizarre thoughts tumbled over each other in my head, and I had to grit my teeth to keep the babble from dribbling out of my mouth.

_How the hell did I not know that, either?_

Granted, I wasn't a doctor, but I'd had my fingers inside her—more than once, for fuck's sake. I'd like to think I'd notice something like that, but maybe not. None of my pack brothers had been with virgins, so I didn't even have that second-hand knowledge to draw on. Ah, hell. What the fuck did I know about it anyway? Not enough, apparently because I'd had no idea it was even possible for a girl to be born without that. But then, I also hadn't known vampire-human hybrids were possible before Renesmee came along. I decided I didn't want to know how _she_ knew she didn't have a … ah, screw it. Who cared?

"Fuck," I muttered succinctly.

I had nothing else, and she knew it. We both did.

"I give up. You win."

I immediately felt like a prick for putting it that way, because it made it sound like she was coercing me into doing something I didn't want to do. And I really, really did want it. I'd wanted it so badly for so long that just thinking it was really about to happen—that I was finally going to make love to her—was almost enough to make me bawl like a girl. Almost.

I'd just wanted to be married to her first, and doing this for the first time somewhere special and romantic—not to mention safe, without the danger of death or something worse hanging over our heads. Maybe that made me a pussy, but that's how I felt.

She took it like it sounded, stiffening on top of me and pulling away. She slid off my lap and bent quickly to snag her shirt off the floor, hiding her face in her long, dark curls. She turned away from me to yank the shirt over her head, but I caught a glimpse of moisture glistening on her cheeks before her face disappeared inside the shirt.

"Forget it," she said, the quiver in her voice confirming the tears she was trying to conceal. "I'm not going to beg. If you don't want to, that's fine."

I sat up quickly, grabbed the hem of the shirt and gently pulled it back over her head and out of her hands. She blinked at me, startled, and crossed her arms defensively over her naked breasts. I dropped the shirt on the floor and gently pried her arms open.

"Don't hide from me," I whispered, trying to make my voice as gentle and apologetic as possible. "I'm sorry. I'm an ass."

She studied me for a few heartbeats, obviously trying to interpret what my apology really meant—if I was finally giving in gracefully or just trying to ease the sting of rejection. I hated that I'd put that defensive, disappointed look in her eyes.

Using my light grip on her wrists, I pulled her into my arms. I shivered at the sensation of her hot, naked skin against mine. We'd been this far before, skin to skin, but this time was different. She pressed her wet face into my chest and absently stroked her small palms over the planes of my pects.

"I want you, sweetheart." I nuzzled the top of her head, feeling enveloped by her incredible aroma—and more than a little drunk on it. "Believe me." I wrapped my arms completely around her, wishing it were as easy to protect her from our enemies as it was to encompass her in my arms.

"I just want this to be good for you, and special," I sighed. "I'm not sure I can give you the first time you deserve in the middle of all ..." I flicked my wrist in a circle, encompassing the whole crappy little room in my gesture. "… _this_."

She huffed against my skin. "I know this isn't ideal," she muttered.

"That's an understatement," I interjected, then zipped my lip when she lifted her head and gave me a hard look. When she saw that I had my sarcasm under control, she continued.

"This isn't just about me, Jake," she said, determination firming the line of her jaw. "This is about _us_. If we do this, it will be _your_ first time, too, and all that matters to me is that we share that with each other. I don't care where or how or why. I only care that it's _you_. I _need_ it to be you."

The last vapors of my reluctance sizzled away into the stale atmosphere of our cramped, shitty little cell.

She was my imprint, my mate. Instinct demanded I give her whatever she needed, or wanted, or asked of me.

Instead of answering her with words that would be totally inadequate to express just how much I loved and desired her, I bent my head and touched my lips to the corner of her mouth. She relaxed against me, and when she turned her head to align her lips with mine, I traced the line of her lips with my tongue, urging her mouth open.

She recognized the change in my attitude right away, and responded to it like a cat with a firecracker tied to its tail. Abruptly she was all over me, climbing back onto my lap, her hands everywhere, her mouth demanding I give her everything immediately. Using her gift, she pushed her awareness into my head, and I was drowning in our mutual lust, reveling in her passion as it swamped my senses.

Until I felt her hands at the waistband of my shorts, unbuttoning and unzipping.

Heaving for air like a hiker cresting the North Face, I tore my mouth away from hers and grabbed her hands just as her fingers plunged inside my pants.

"Slow down, sweetheart," I grunted. My voice sounded strangled, like she was trying to wrap her fingers around my throat instead of my cock.

She jerked her hands out of mine and glared at me. Frustration was battling with the desire in her eyes, and for the moment, the frustration was winning.

"Why? I want you. _Now_."

I sighed and stroked my hands up and down her arms soothingly. "Well, for one thing, if you touch my dick now, I'm going to blow all over your hand," I explained, feeling heat climb up my neck and around my ears.

Her eyes widened, slightly startled at my admission. Then she snickered. I grinned at her, relieved that she wasn't really pissed.

"For another, if we rush this, it's going to hurt you."

She shook her head emphatically. "No, Jake. I already told you, I don't have a—"

I interrupted her. "Yeah, I heard you the first time you said it." I _so_ did not want to hear her say that again.

The smooth skin between her eyebrows dented adorably, and she shook her head again, perplexed.

"Then what are you worried about?"

I rolled my eyes and groaned in frustration. How could a woman who knew so much about her own equipment be so naïve about how it was all going to work when it met up with _my_ equipment?

"Ness, you've seen me naked when I phase," I began, carefully avoiding her eyes.

"Yeah? So?"

_So?_ So we'd barely begun and I already had to confront one of my biggest fears.

Being a guy and having size insecurity was certainly not uncommon. My particular brand of insecurity was outside the norm. I had a big problem that had been worrying me since the day Nessie reached maturity and I realized she wasn't going to get any bigger.

And I wasn't going to get any smaller.

Paul had laughed his ass off when he'd caught me thinking about my problem one day while we were patrolling together. He'd berated me for being the only guy in the history of the world who worried that his johnson was too big. Then he'd pointed out that he was even bigger and that Rachel—My sister! The bastard was talking about _my sister_!—had no complaints. I'd kicked his butt thoroughly for that one and made sure in the future to keep those thoughts out of my head whenever I was in wolf form. Still, my worries had never gone away.

Once Ness and I became engaged, I'd started really exploring the extent of our problem. The first time we made it to third base had been a revelation on multiple levels. On the positive side, the experience proved to me that I could make her come. Hard and loud. However, having my finger inside her tight body also confirmed my suspicion that when we did decide to head for home base, it wasn't going to be an easy steal. Nature was accommodating, and I knew a certain amount of stretching would take place, but even a half-vampire's nearly indestructible body had its limits.

"Sooooo …" I gestured to my lap, where my shorts were doing a pretty good impression of a circus big top, "… do you think everything's going to just fit together effortlessly? Without a little bit of … preparation?"

She got it then. Her eyes rounded and her mouth popped a cute little "O" of surprise. After a moment of processing our predicament, she looked at me with a mixture of trepidation and trust in her big chocolate eyes.

"What do we do about it?"

I glanced toward the sink on the far side of the room. My mouth felt parched again, and I'd have liked another cup of water, but I really didn't want that sulphur stink on my breath when I kissed her. I already smelled like ass after seventy-two hours without a shower. No point in making it worse. Of course, we'd probably _have_ to endure that rotten egg reek later; we'd need it to cover up the smell of sex. My dick twitched approvingly at the thought.

"We take it slow," I said, swallowing dryly. "You need to be really wet and relaxed before I try to get inside you, so I'm going to make you come a couple of times first, use my fingers to help get you ready and—"

I trailed off, concerned that her breathing and heart rate suddenly seemed to be erratic.

"Ness? You okay?"

She did a sexy full-body shiver and climbed back into my lap. "Holy shit, Jake, that's hot. Keep talking like that, please!"

She thought that was hot? I'd thought it was kind of clinical, but if my overly descriptive babbling did it for her, who was I to argue?

"Oh-kaaay … what do you want me to say?"

She shimmied her full, soft tits against my chest, and I moaned. Brushing her lips against mine, she whispered: "I have no idea. Just keep talking."

I'd been just sixteen when I imprinted on the most beautiful infant I'd ever seen. Suddenly, I'd gone from being a typical teenage boy – basically just a penis with legs – to having zero interest in sex. It was weird, but not nearly as strange and uncomfortable as it would have been if all those urges had still been going strong while I was bonded to a baby. If I'd thought about it at all at the time—and I really hadn't—it was to feel vaguely relieved that I didn't have to deal with all that stuff.

And everything went along just fine … until Ness reached maturity.

One day I was helping her learn to drive a stick shift, teasing the hell out of her like she was my favorite little sister. The next day, I showed up at the Cullen mansion to continue the lessons in my beat-up old Rabbit and the most incredibly beautiful, desirable woman I'd ever seen walked out of the door to meet me.

I'd been watching her grow and mature for years, so I'd just assumed the shift in my perception of her as a child to seeing her as a woman would be gradual, too. It wasn't. It was abrupt and jarring, as if I'd been standing in a stadium lit by candles when someone flipped a switch and the overhead floodlights came on. Suddenly I realized that, even though she'd been the center of my universe since practically her first breath, I'd only ever seen her in shadows before.

I'd lasted all of twenty minutes alone in the car with her before I'd kissed her for the first time. It hadn't been a sweet, innocent first kiss, either. It had been an all-out tongues-thrusting, hands roaming and hips grinding kind of kiss that left me with my first erection in five years. Amazingly, she'd liked my pawing and slobbering, and had made it clear she was ready, then and there, to climb into the cramped backseat of my antique VW with me. My hard-on didn't relent until I got home later and took matters into my own hands.

Edward had almost killed me that day.

After that, Bella kept her shield on me whenever I was around Renesmee's father. Knowing my thoughts were protected from him meant I could give my fantasies free reign. So I had a deep, dark well of creative ideas when it came to imagining what I wanted to do with my imprint. Since she'd asked me to keep talking, I figured it was time to tap that well and tell her exactly how—and how much—I desired her.

I slid my hands under her arms and lifted her to stand in front of me between my thighs. "I want to make you feel good, sweetheart," I whispered.

I slowly unzipped her jeans and slid my fingers under the waistband, palming and massaging her ass cheeks.

"I've been going crazy thinking about getting you naked, so the first thing I'm going to do is strip you," I said, my voice husky and thick. I eased the jeans down her hips and thighs, letting them drop to the floor until she was standing before me in nothing but her panties.

"Then I'm going to lick every curve and goose bump on your gorgeous tits." Draping her arms over my shoulders, I pulled her toward me to demonstrate. Her eyes drifted closed as I traced one pert little aureole with my tongue before gently sucking on the nipple. When I repeated the move on her other breast, she moaned and pressed forward to get closer.

"In fact, I think I'd like to lick every inch of your beautiful body until you're begging me to make you come."

I was ready for the panties to go. Hooking my fingers into the soft lace just under her hipbones, I quickly slipped the scrap of fabric down her legs. When she was naked, I leaned back to enjoy the fruits of my handiwork.

I'd seen her in just her bra before, and had even had her pants off her before, but this was the first time I was seeing her completely naked. My chest tightened and my heart rate accelerated, pushing even more blood to my dick. My groin throbbed painfully. I'd never seen anything more glorious than my imprint's nude body.

Her breasts were full and high and just the right size to fill my hands without spilling over too much. Her tiny waist flared gently into the soft curve of her hips. Her skin was pale and flawless, like the shell of the tiniest egg, and it even had the faintest hint of vampire sparkle. I grazed my nose under the tender curve of her breast, back up to her collar bone and along the crest of her shoulder, savoring how each patch of perfect skin smelled slightly different from the others.

Everything about her drew me in, as if her body had been tailor-made to turn on mine.

I dropped to my knees in front of her, pulled her forward again and returned to my oral exploration of her breasts. When I left them, instead of going back to her mouth for a kiss, I moved south. I knew I was rushing her, but I was overwhelmed by the need to bury my face in the trim little patch of curls between her thighs.

I bracketed her hips with my hands and pressed her closer. So she wouldn't freak out over where I was headed, I kept up a constant monologue against her hot skin.

"Don't worry, baby. I won't make you beg too long." I mapped the tender hills and valleys of her sternum with my lips and tickled toward her navel. "When you're wet and hot and so turned on you can't think straight, then I'll make you come with my tongue."

"Oh my God, Jake," she panted. Shivering like she was standing hip-deep in a snowdrift, she dropped her head forward, curtaining my face with her hair.

I circled her navel once with my tongue, paused to savor the taste, and then went back in for another pass, dipping into the sweet little hollow. While my tongue played, I eased one hand forward and down, until my fingers just brushed along the delicate bend where her thigh flowed gracefully into her pelvis. Her body reacted, saturating the air with the scent of her arousal. Nature had created those pheromones specifically for me, and her natural perfume hit me like a wrecking ball. I could smell how hot and wet she was already, and suddenly, my mouth was watering with the need to taste her.

I trailed a finger through the shadowed valley of her sex, moving slowly from bottom to top. "I'm not going to stop until you're so exhausted and so damned satisfied that you think you couldn't possibly stand anymore."

My finger reversed course, delving a little deeper, just enough to graze that nub of incredibly sensitized tissue hidden like a pearl within her folds. She convulsed in my arms.

"Then I'm going to start all over and make you come again, only this time I'm going to put my fingers inside you."

Her breathing became impossibly uneven, and for a second I was worried she'd pass out. I hadn't even really gotten started yet, but her little fingers were already buried in my hair, gripping tightly as if it that was the only thing keeping her upright. It probably was, I thought smugly.

"When you're wet and ready and more relaxed than you've ever been, I'm going to slide my cock into you, and you'll know I belong there. You'll feel like I've always been there, and you'll never want me to leave."

Before she could react, I nuzzled the trim thatch between her legs and groaned at the feeling of her hot, silky skin sliding against my face.

"You are so fucking beautiful," I mumbled against her flesh.

I couldn't hold back any longer. Opening my lips wide over that soft, sweet-smelling slice of heaven, I pushed my tongue into her. When I found that magic little button, I worshipped it, swirling my tongue around it repeatedly. I had her squirming and squealing in seconds.

Her legs were shaking, and I was pretty much fully supporting her weight with my hands on her ass. While holding her up was no challenge for me, this position wasn't giving me the access I craved.

"I have to see you, baby," I muttered. I wanted her on her back, spread and glistening. I wanted to see how wet and ready she was for me. I rose quickly, hooked one arm under her ass and the other behind her back, and lifted her onto the shitty excuse for a bed.

Her huge eyes were molten chocolate—hot and dazed. She licked her lips and refocused her eyes, first taking in the lust on my face before dropping her gaze to my crotch.

"What about you?" She gestured limply toward my shorts. "I want to see you too, you know."

I smirked. "You sure you're ready?"

She'd caught peeps before when I phased in front of her, but I'd always been careful to cover up quickly. And she'd definitely never even glimpsed me when I was this hard and aching for her.

She rubbed her thighs together unconsciously and nodded. I groaned and my dick punched against my fly. She had no idea the effect she had on me. She was about to find out.

Without another word, I unzipped and pushed my underwear and shorts down together. When they hit the floor, I stepped out of the clothes and rested one knee on the cot near her hip. Her eyes grew impossibly rounder and wider as she stared at my naked erection for the first time.

"Now you see our challenge?" I teased, pretty fucking proud of myself for still being capable of coherent communication when every instinct in my body was telling me to just mount her and go for it.

"Shit, Jake," she breathed. "Where have you been hiding _that_ all this time? And _why_?"

I couldn't decide whether to groan or laugh at her question. I managed a weird semi-coughing sound that was somewhere midway between the two. Seriously? Did she really think her father would have let me _live_ if I'd gone strutting around waving this thing in plain sight?

She reached hesitantly toward me. "Can I … touch you?"

My self-control was stretched thinner than a miser's charity. I was pretty sure if she touched me, I'd jizz all over her stomach and that would be the end of my taking her virginity today. I caught her little hand before she could close her fingers around me.

"Not this time, sweetheart."

To soften my refusal—and to distract her in case she decided to grab me anyway—I braced my palms on either side of her head and lowered my lips to hers for a kiss. Her hands immediately went to my face and she opened her mind to me. Waves of her arousal poured through the connection. It took all my willpower to keep from grinding my hard-on against her, but I managed to keep our mouths and her hands our only points of contact for several very stimulating moments.

As much as I loved having her in my head, feeling everything she felt was going to make me lose focus. It was becoming more difficult to deny my urge to get inside her. The only thing I wanted more was to ensure she felt only pleasure and no discomfort. I gentled the kiss, pecking lightly around her lips and across her cheeks to keep her mind occupied. Quickly and smoothly, I towed her ass to the foot of the cot so that her legs dangled off the edge. Disengaging from her lips, I knelt beside the bed.

Confusion darkened her eyes. "What are you doing?"

I lifted her legs and draped them over me, her knees bent over my shoulders, her feet trailing down my back. "Just what I promised, sweetheart. Relax. This is going to feel incredible."

She propped herself up on her elbows and gaped down at me owlishly. "Uhm … I didn't realize you were serious. I didn't expect … I mean … you don't have to. Uh … unless you really _want_ to, that is."

Still holding her gaze, I leaned in toward her body and drew in a deep, ragged breath, reveling in the way her scent made my head swim. "Oh, I _want_ to, baby. Believe me. I'm going to enjoy this almost as much as you will."

The metal on my wrists chimed softly as I slid my hands under her bottom. I bowed my head and nuzzled her stomach just below her navel. We both needed a moment—her to catch her breath, and me to keep my mind on what I was doing. Namely, making her so wet and satisfied that her body would accept mine as easily as possible when the time came.

Her breathing steadied quickly, and I smirked against her skin. I could smell how wet she was already, and I reveled in the knowledge that making her come was going to be easy and—hopefully—quick. Before she had time to wind down too much, I turned my face into her leg and began kissing her silky thigh.

"God I love your skin," I crooned. "You're so fucking soft. So goddamned beautiful. So pretty and pink and mouth-watering. I can't wait to get inside you."

I dragged my tongue over her glistening crease, and she bucked involuntarily against my face. I took advantage of the movement and pushed her open with my flattened tongue before pulsing it against her hard little nub.

She whimpered and wriggled under my lips. She was already so wet my tongue slipped easily through her folds. I worked that little bead that was the key to her pleasure, all the while massaging her thighs and hips with my fingers and palms.

Hard to say which of us was more surprised by her roaring climax.

One second I was feasting on her, just adoring the taste and feel of her, savoring the soft little sounds she was making while she squirmed beneath me and pawed my hair. The next second, her thighs were clamped tightly around my head, muffling her gasping, sobbing scream. Fresh moisture flooded out of her. I lapped at her like a dog licking an empty dish. I wanted to stay down there, licking and sucking on her forever, but I knew her body would need a break before I made her come again.

_I made her come. I went down on my girl and made her come. Damn! _

I was proud of myself, blown away by her passionate response and so turned on I could barely breathe. I popped my head up from between her thighs, grinning and licking my lips wolfishly.

She was staring down at me like I'd just shown her the face of God. Her expression was sexy and adorable and actually kind of comical. I'd never imagined I'd feel amused when having sex, but everything about her just made me so damned _happy_.

"You're welcome, baby," I laughed, sliding her thighs off my shoulders. I climbed up beside her on the rickety little cot and gathered her into my arms before I kissed her soundly. She wrapped her arms around my neck and clung to me like a spider monkey, pressing her body so close to mine you couldn't have slid a sheet of paper in between us. I indulged myself by letting my hands roam all over her hot, naked skin.

"That was incredible," she wheezed against my throat. "I'm ready, Jake. I am so ready. Please, I want you inside me, now!"

I groaned and shut her up with another kiss, plunging my tongue into her mouth. I knew she could taste herself on my lips, and the thought made me impossibly harder. My erection was sandwiched between us, and I was pretty sure I would explode if I didn't take her soon. But I wanted her body as receptive as possible. I slipped my hand down, caressing her flat stomach, inching toward that part of her that I was sure was still throbbing from her orgasm.

"One more, sweetheart," I whispered. "I want one more from you first."

She whimpered and huffed against my neck as my fingers dipped between her trembling thighs. She shivered slightly as the cold metal of my manacles touched her skin, but instead of pulling away, she pressed her hips closer and hitched one leg over my hip. My index finger slipped easily into her slick folds. A fresh surge of lust swept through my body, collecting in my groin. My dick was seven shades of jealous right now and was begging me to let it take that lucky finger's place.

"Mmmmm. You are so fucking wet, baby," I hummed against her mouth. I took advantage of her panting to slip my tongue into her parted lips. My finger moved in tandem, and I slowly slid the length of it up inside her tight passage.

"Ohfuckohfuckohfuck." She was barely coherent and I froze, thinking maybe I'd hurt her already. After a few seconds, her babbling coalesced into a begging, wordless moan.

I went back to kissing her and eased my finger all the way in, sealing her damp flesh against my palm. I used the flat heel of my hand to apply pressure while slowly flexing and sliding my finger. For a second, I allowed myself to contemplate how that hot, wet tightness was going to feel around my cock, and my whole body shivered in response.

One finger had her moaning in ecstasy, and I was running out of self-restraint. I need to pick up the pace or we would both lose our minds. I thumbed that sweet hidden pearl and slowly worked my middle finger inside her, too. I was trying to be gentle, but I _needed_ her body to stretch for me—and soon.

She was gasping my name repeatedly, as if it were the only word she knew. She grabbed my face in her little hands and devoured my mouth, flooding my mind with her pleasure. Knowing how close she was to losing it pushed me to the very edge of my control. I increased the pace of my thumb and roughly shoved a third finger beside the first two, growling my impatience into her mouth.

Maybe it was the pressure of being so fucking full of my fingers, or knowing that my own passion was as out of control as hers. Maybe it was both. Whatever it was, I did something right and she convulsed in my arms again, screaming my name so loudly my ears rang.

I felt her tight little body clench rhythmically around my fingers and I was _done_. Out of time. Out of patience. Out of restraint.

Without giving her time to recover at all, I rolled to my back and pulled her on top of me.

I'd always planned to have her lying on top of me for our first time so that she could control the speed and depth of penetration; I figured it was the best way to minimize her inevitable discomfort. As punch-drunk as she was on her orgasms, I thought she might actually protest against the position. But she responded eagerly, her eyes hungry and blazing, her hair a sexy, wild mess that spilled over her shoulders and down across my chest.

With one hand on her ass, I urged her over me. With the other, I reached down between us and grasped the base of my cock. "C'mon, baby. You do it. You put me inside."

She didn't hesitate, placing her little hand over mine and guiding the broad, blunt head to her opening.

The moment was here, and I'd done everything I could think of to make this as easy as possible. Whatever happened next was—literally—in her hands.

"Just take it slow, and if anything hurts, stop right away. I—"

My instructions died in my throat, and I choked like a strangled turtle as she rammed herself down onto me. She took my full length in one fast, aggressive movement, and I felt my cock bottom out inside her.

My mind disintegrated.

_Warm. Wet. Silk. Tight. So fucking tight. Don't come!_

Her pants and whimpers dragged me back from the brink of making a total ass of myself and ruining our first time by climaxing before either of us even moved. I pried my eyes open—when had I shut them?—terrified that she was injured.

She was sprawled on top of me, her tits crushed against my chest, her knees bracketing my hips. But while she looked dazed and a little bewildered, her beautiful face didn't show any sign of pain. My entire body was screaming at me to move, but I had to be sure she wasn't hurt. I ran my shaking hands up the outside of her thighs until they rested lightly over her hips. I hoped she'd get my silent message to not move.

"N-ness? You okay?" I was huffing like a steam engine, and I sounded breathless and giddy.

Resting her elbows on my chest, she gripped my shoulders strongly and wriggled her hips tentatively. The movement made my tip rub against something deep inside her, and I gasped at the incredible friction.

"Yeah," she replied, her voice so breathy and low it almost didn't sound like hers at all.

My heart was slamming against my ribs so hard I was sure they'd splinter from the inside out, and I had to gulp like a landed fish to get enough air to keep talking.

"You sure? Are you in pain?"

She finally met my eyes and smirked. "No. Are you?"

I didn't know whether to groan or laugh. "Fuck no. You feel so damn … _good_."

She bit her lower lip. "Yeah, you do too. It's different. But _really_ good."

"Wanna keep going?"

_Say yes. God, please say yes._

She rocked her hips on top of mine, moving experimentally. "Yeah. I'm just not sure what I'm supposed to do."

"Just do whatever feels good to you, baby."

She smiled shyly. "Help me?"

I'd seen enough through the pack mind to have a few ideas right now. I gently gripped her hips and lifted her slightly. We both gasped as my length slid partially out of her before I carefully pushed her back down. Her nails dug into my shoulders and she moaned in sheer delight.

"Again, please," she panted, her eyes drifting closed.

I began moving her slowly, seeking a shallow, gentle rhythm that I hoped would ensure she felt only pleasure instead of pain. It felt good—really, really good—but I was no longer in danger of going over the edge so quickly, before I had a chance to make her come again. Because she was lying on top of me, I couldn't _see_ where our bodies connected. But watching the emotions ripple over her beautiful face was every bit as erotic. I studied every nuance of expression.

I moved one hand from her hips, sliding it between us, reaching toward where our bodies joined. I intended to finger her into yet another mind-blowing orgasm, this time while I was buried inside her.

Her eyes snapped open, she grabbed my hand and she glared—_daggers_!—at me.

"No, Jake," she growled. "Stop thinking."

She clamped her knees tighter against my hips, placed her hands on either side of my face, and opened her gift to me again. I was overwhelmed by the duality of the experience—feeling myself inside her and her surrounding me at the same time through her gift.

"Stop taking care of me and just fuck me," she demanded. "You won't hurt me. Trust me."

Connected by her gift, I knew she was right. I _wouldn't_ hurt her—I never had. But if I did, I'd know it right away.

Experimentally, I began to move, lowering my hips to slide partially out of her, then rising again to slip back in. It definitely felt even better than just guiding her movements with my hands, but I kept things slow and gentle.

Until she made a frustrated sound, ground her mouth onto mine and began slamming her hips down to meet my upward motion. That was all it took to completely shatter my self-control.

Apparently, she was done with gentle and patient, and for once I couldn't even argue with her. I was beyond speech. Beyond anything but the indescribable feeling of being inside her. I increased my pace to match hers, the friction the most delicious, erotic sensation I'd ever experienced. Even with the lubrication of two orgasms, she was still incredibly tight, and I could feel the loose skin at the end of my cock roll and slide with every thrust.

A lot faster than I'd have liked—embarrassingly fast—I felt the pressure building in my balls. I gripped her hips hard and tried to slow her down. I could barely speak, but I managed to grind out a few marginally coherent words.

"Slow down," I wheezed. "Don't wanna … unnh … come yet."

She laughed against my lips, sat up and just … fucking took _over_.

Slamming down onto me, circling her hips with every downward thrust. Her gorgeous tits bounced above me, her skin was rosy and flushed with her excitement. She was driving me, and I was completely powerless to stop this build up, this headlong dive. I couldn't even hold onto her anymore; my hands flopped uselessly at my sides as she rode me straight into oblivion.

My stomach muscles flexed involuntarily, drawing my legs up. My toes curled like I was a girl who'd just gotten her first French kiss. For the first time since I'd phased, the first time since I accepted the responsibilities of being an Alpha, I yielded control of my mind and body. I couldn't hold on to it and I didn't want to.

The pressure and heat that had been building around the base of my cock pulsed hard and hot, and I came, emptying myself with a roar deep inside my imprint's beautiful body. The pleasure was so intense, so all-consuming, and seemed to go on so long, that it was all I could feel, all I could perceive. My body was a throbbing, spasming mess and my mind … my mind was just _gone_. Somewhere warm and peaceful and so exhausted I was pretty sure I'd never move again.

My awareness returned in fragments:

The weight of Renesmee's body fully reclined on top of me. The smooth softness of her back beneath my hands. The boneless, relaxed limpness of all my limbs. The comforting warmth still surrounding my totally satisfied dick. The lethargy and contentment saturating every molecule of my body.

I'd wanted to make love with her, craved this most intimate of connections, from the first second I'd seen her as a woman, and not just a little girl. I'd known it would be good between us; nature had designed us to fit together this way. But I'd had no idea making love with Renesmee would be so … transcendent. Not one single moment of the past twenty-two years of my life had ever felt so peaceful, so perfect, so utterly _complete_ as this one. Here in this hideously dark, cold and dangerous place, with who knew what fate looming over our heads, I was happy like I'd never been before in my life.

Now that it was done—now that we finally belonged to each other in this last, most profound way—I knew she'd been right to insist. Now, we would have the peace and perfection of this first time together to strengthen us through whatever we would have to face in the hours ahead of us. The setting and circumstances, what anyone else thought about our choice—none of that mattered at all. This moment was _ours_. No one else's. And it always would be.

Unfortunately, reality was inevitable, and it started tearing at our warm cocoon of contentment in the form of a puddle of mixed fluids cooling on the mattress beneath my ass. That hint of reality opened the door to all the other unpleasantness we'd allowed ourselves to ignore for the past hour. Our captors would be coming back, and we needed to be ready.

_Shit._

Without opening my eyes, I tightened my grip on Ness and buried my nose in her hair. Her scent was as familiar and soothing as always—and more appealing than ever since it was layered with the smell of sex. More specifically, sex with me.

I didn't want to move. Didn't want to speak, but I knew I had to. I just wasn't sure how to do either without totally ruining the afterglow for her.

"I know what you're thinking, Jake," she murmured against my chest, startling me. When I didn't respond, she lifted her head and rested her chin on her folded hands atop my chest. My heart somersaulted—in a happy, totally pussy-whipped way—at the serenity and love glowing in her deep, dark eyes.

"You do?"

She sighed, and smiled regretfully. "Yeah. We have a lot to do before they come back, right?"

I reached up to run my fingers through my hair and was slightly embarrassed to see they were still shaky. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," I said. "I'm sorry I have to ruin this."

She rolled her eyes in annoyance and abruptly sat up. My soft dick slipped out of her delicious warmth, and I groaned, feeling suddenly bereft.

"Would you stop? Please?" The sharpness in her tone took me by surprise. She was really peeved. "This was perfect, Jake. The most incredible experience of my life. The only thing that can ruin it is if you start getting all guilt-ridden and anxious about everything."

I sat up and winced at the squelching noise my ass made on the wet mattress. She heard it too and promptly burst into laughter. And it wasn't ladylike little giggles, either. It was snort-through-her-nose, loud guffaws of laughter. If it made her laugh, I'd make juvenile fart noises for as long as it took to make her feel happy and safe.

But not for as long as it would take for the door of our prison cell to open again.

Her laughter trailed off. I reached for her and she came back into my arms easily. I hugged her and rocked her, allowing us just a few more moments of respite. Into the quiet, warm silence that surrounded us, I dropped the only words that would matter in this moment, the only words that had _ever_ really mattered:

"I love you, Ness."

"I love you, too, Jake."

It was all I'd ever wanted, and all the reason I would ever need.

* * *

><p><em><strong>End note:<strong> No cliffee this time. See, I CAN end a chapter without one. _


	31. Telling Lies

_**A/N: **Wow! Thanks for all the positive feedback on Chapter 30. While it seemed most of you were happy to spend some ... ahem ... "quality time" with Jake and Renesmee, many of you wanted to also know what the heck was up with Anjali. So, here you go._

_Thanks as always to Evelyn-Shaye and MunkeeRajah for helping me smooth out the rough spots and plug the plot holes. I love them more than Jasper's sexy Texan drawl!_

_Twilight still belongs to Stephenie Meyer, so I'm really glad she's such a good sport about letting others play with her characters and not coming after us all with a battalion of lawyers and a Louisville slugger!_

* * *

><p>Chapter 31 – Telling Lies<p>

**Leah POV**

Bitch. Ball buster. Witch. Wench. Shrew. Harpy. Harridan.

I'd heard all that and more thrown my way in the past six years.

When you're the bitter ex-girlfriend of one of the community's most beloved heroes—not to mention the only female in a very exclusive, high-pressure all-boys club—you're on the receiving end of a lot of insults. Truthfully, I'd deserved most of them; I could admit that to myself now that I was on the verge of getting everything I'd ever wanted—a family, love and a future—with Nahuel.

But no one had ever before questioned my loyalty. No one had ever called me a traitor, until now.

It was one slur I did _not_ deserve. Even though I'd broken my link to Jake, I wasn't abandoning him. I was still loyal to my pack, and I'd never break our treaty with the Cullens by colluding with their enemies.

Anjali's claim that I'd been passing information to Nahuel's insane, conniving father was the worst aspersion I'd ever had anyone cast on my character. I'd never even _seen_ the fucker. If I _had_ met him, one of us would be dead, because I would have either ended his miserable existence or died trying. I wanted to rip her lungs out for making such a despicable accusation. Only the presence of my brother and my imprint—and the knowledge that they both loved her as much as I despised her—kept me from doing just that.

Still, I couldn't take it and keep quiet. Then again, when did I _ever_ keep quiet?

"You're a liar!" I screeched so loudly my throat burned. Nahuel's arms were still wrapped around my waist, and I gripped them tightly. If I kept my hands on his warm, energized skin, maybe I could keep myself from slapping Anjali across her too-perfect face.

Part of me—a very _small_ part because mostly I was just furious—welcomed the outrage her bald accusation ignited in my soul. It diverted my mind from the epic terror I'd first felt at hearing that the buried parts of my would-be rapist were missing. I'd like to think that I wasn't really afraid of anything other than losing Nahuel. But the truth was that sick, smooth-talking corpse had gotten under my skin and into my head, and the possibility that he was reanimated somewhere … my mind shied away from fully examining the depths of that horror.

Better to channel my anxiety into anger and aim it at my brother's treacherous imprint.

"A fucking, filthy liar!" I added for emphasis. "I wouldn't tell Nahuel's psycho DNA-donor where to find a hose if the fucker was on fire. I'd sure as shit never rat out my pack and friends to him. But _you_ would, you bitch!"

"Leah!" Anger and warning filled Seth's voice. He was smack in the middle of the shit storm that was brewing between Anjali and me. I could only hope he'd take my side when the truth was out.

My fingers itched to wrap around her elegant, slender throat and squeeze until she confessed to the lie. To all her lies.

_Pot, meet kettle_.

_Stupid, fucking school girl. Shut up. It's not the same at all. We're not the same. At. All._

Anjali's eyes narrowed shrewishly, until they were small and hard. They glittered like the eyes of a viper that lurks in waiting, ready to strike from its dank burrow in the dark of night.

"You didn't intend it, any more than I did," she hissed. "But you've been as much a source of information for my father as I have."

"Anjali, what are you saying? Tell me what's going on," Seth begged his imprint, tugging gently on the hand he still held. In his pain-wracked expression, I saw echoes of the agony and betrayal I'd put on Jacob's face when I sucker-punched him and then ran out on him. A fresh wave of shame and guilt slammed down on the shores of my consciousness.

_Told you so_, the school girl chimed inside my head in an annoying sing-song.

_Not. The. Same. At. Fucking. All!_

The wolf bitch threw in her two cents. _A lie is a lie is a lie._

_Jesus H. Christ! When did I start hearing voices?_

My cheese was definitely sliding off my cracker. Maybe it was the hormones. Could pregnancy cause hallucinations?

Although she'd quickly recovered her composure after her brief crying jag, Anjali's cool countenance crumpled again at the plea in my brother's voice. I'd been right that he was her weakness, the one person she truly cared about. Maybe all of this really was her twisted, misguided way of trying to protect Seth. I hoped so. I'd still want to kill her if she'd compromised Nahuel and betrayed his trust—not to mention everyone else's—but I could forgive her for doing anything to protect her mate. After all, I'd do the same.

I glanced over my shoulder at Nahuel and my heart tumbled. Confusion and hurt clouded his warm golden eyes and his gaze shifted restlessly back and forth between Anjali and me. His bewilderment made my soul ache. Fear quickly nipped at the heels of my empathy. Did he believe her? Did he think I would betray my pack, the Cullens … _him_?

Anjali's soft whimpers drew my attention back to her. "I'm sorry, Seth," she cried softly. "I don't want you to be hurt or sad. I only want to protect you and make you happy."

_Bingo!_

"Then tell me what's going on," he repeated, his eyes shifting anxiously to Edward.

My brother and the mind-reader were close, and I knew they were almost as good at the silent communication thing as Jake and Edward were. I watched Edward closely, but if he gave Seth some sign of what he was reading from Anjali, I didn't catch it.

I did notice, however, that Jasper and Emmett had both subtly shifted their positions to bring them closer to the four of us locked in the core of this unfolding drama. They were no longer protecting us from any possible outside threat; they were now behaving as if the real danger might come from within.

Seth, Anjali and Nahuel seemed oblivious to the change in the atmosphere. In fact, everyone seemed to be so eager to hear whatever Anjali would say next, that Carlisle's furtive step closer to me went unnoticed. Just as well; you didn't have to be a strategist to recognize that the move would allow him to put himself between my brother's imprint and me in a split second.

Still clinging to Seth like he was the only anchor she could find in the grip of a raging current, Anjali drew in a shuddering breath and focused her attention on him. She spoke as if she believed what she had to say would matter—_should_ matter—only to Seth. The rest of us might as well not exist, for all she cared.

"Father knows things," she said, her small, shaking fingers hooked in the belt loops of Seth's cargo shorts. "Things that you can't imagine how he could know." Her hazel eyes flickered to Nahuel.

"Like where a … target … has gone once it has fled from him."

Now her eyes swept to Jasper. "Or that another's power is useless against him."

Finally, her gaze settled on me. "Or that another has a secret that they wish to protect."

Blood was roaring in my ears, and it took every ounce of willpower I had to stay still and not place my hands protectively over my stomach. Carlisle moved minutely closer.

She turned back to Seth. "He considers information the greatest asset and power one can possess," she said. "What he knows is not through any ability of his own, however. He uses others to gather information for him. Remy was … is … the best of his gatherers."

Behind me, Rosalie growled impatiently.

"Just spit it out, bitch! Stop talking in riddles."

Suddenly, I liked Blondie a whole lot more than I ever had before.

Anjali didn't even dignify Rosalie with a look, let alone a response. Instead, she continued speaking to Seth, her low tone silky and intimate, as if they were completely alone together in the clearing.

"Remy is a remote viewer."

_Well that explains everything. Not._

"What does that mean?" Seth asked cautiously.

"Remy has a special ability, like Edward's mind reading talent or Jasper's empathy," she explained. "He's able to see and hear through the perceptions of anyone with whom he has ever had physical contact."

"You mean like Aro can read your mind when he touches you?" Emmett suggested. I shuddered involuntarily. I didn't like to think of the Volturi master; he was almost as creepy as the vampire rapist. But the mention—again—of the vampire royal family had planted a seed in my brain, and it was taking root. Something was stirring beneath the surface. What would emerge when the new tender shoot broke ground within my psyche? I didn't have time to contemplate it, because Anjali was talking again.

Although she still wouldn't look away from Seth, she answered Emmett's question.

"No. He doesn't read the person's mind. He only shares their senses, sees what they see, hears what they hear, feels what they touch. And once he's touched someone, Remy is able to re-establish the connection at will, even if he's separated from the subject by hundreds of miles."

My stomach churned, its contents curdled, and I began drawing in short, rapid pants, trying to convince the whole mess to stay put and not come hurtling out of my mouth. Nahuel had thwarted the sick bastard's attempt to physically rape me, but he hadn't been able to stop the _real _violation. Oh no, not at all.

That had occurred afterward. When we were home and thought ourselves safe. When someone dug up the undead prick and pieced him back together. Every private word I'd spoken to my imprint, every intimacy we'd shared, the precious secret Carlisle had agreed to help me keep—all were potentially exposed now.

How much did he know? What had he heard? What had he already told Joham?

_Ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck._

My mind was a roiling cauldron of chaos and I couldn't pull a single coherent thought from it. Thankfully, my new vampire BFF was still thinking clearly.

"Bella!" Carlisle snapped urgently. "Your shield—"

"Already on it," she said calmly.

My head spun. Was she shielding me? I didn't feel any different.

How many of us could she shield at once? How many did she _need_ to? Who else had the mind-molester touched besides me?

Definitely Nahuel. Possibly Anjali, and that meant ….

Seth's coppery skin had taken on a sickly greenish undertone. He pushed Anjali's hands off and backed a step away from her. Apparently, his thoughts were paralleling mine. He was realizing he'd had an unwelcome witness to everything he'd shared with his imprint because this super-powered peeping Tom had almost certainly touched _her_.

Words of love. Battle strategies. Passionate kisses. Tender caresses.

His first time having sex.

And Anjali had allowed that to happen to him. She hadn't said a word of warning, when she must have known this creep … _Remy_ … was watching and listening through her. If she'd only told Seth, Bella could have been shielding him—all of us—all along.

I'd changed my mind. I couldn't forgive her, even if she really had thought, in some warped way, that she'd been physically protecting Seth. This was even worse than I'd imagined when I first began to suspect her of feeding information to her father. This was psychic violation, emotional betrayal so extreme, defilement so utterly foul that I wanted to vomit on Seth's behalf.

Emmett summarized what everyone was thinking: "Fuck."

Rosalie editorialized a bit more: "You sick bitch. I ought to rip your head off."

"Rose," Carlisle admonished in a soft murmur. "That's not helping."

While the rest of us were struggling to absorb Anjali's revelations, Jasper was already examining the situation, picking this new information apart, turning it over in his mind to study it from every angle.

"Is this connection constant?" he asked Anjali. "Or does it happen only when he focuses on an individual? Can he watch through more than one person at a time?"

I wondered why he wasn't using his abilities to help calm everyone down. I was so wound up I'd actually have welcomed some relief. Nahuel's arms clenched around my waist; I couldn't move if I wanted to. He was strung as tight as a piano wire and could have used some help from Jasper to manage his emotions. I wished I knew what to do to ease his pain.

Anjali ignored Jasper as if he hadn't spoken at all. She just stared at the spot on the ground where Seth had stood only a moment before. Her small hands hung suspended in the air before her, as if they still rested at Seth's waist. The seconds stretched.

"Anjali?" Seth's voice, low and pain-filled, seemed to snap her out of whatever reverie she'd been trapped in. Her gaze leapt eagerly to his face. "Can you answer Jasper?"

She inhaled—short and sharp. At the expression on Seth's face, her eyes filled again with tears.

_Goddamned crocodile tears._

"Seth, are you very angry with me?" Her voice was soft and tentative, with a childlike quality that would have tugged at my heartstrings if I hadn't known she was a pathological liar.

While I had zero sympathy for the lying bitch, my heart was breaking for my brother. His inner turmoil was plainly written on his face. A battle raged in his head between instinct that urged him to give her whatever she asked for and intellect that told him she couldn't be trusted. Which would win?

Either way, Seth was the loser.

He hesitated; he wasn't used to being angry with anyone, let alone someone he loved this much. It must have been incredibly difficult for him to admit it, especially with everyone watching.

"Yes," he finally replied.

Her chin quivered and the tears began coursing down her satin skin. "You were never in danger, my darling," she whispered. "I wouldn't let my father harm you. You are everything to me. Nothing else matters. Only you!"

And that, right there, was the problem with Anjali.

Yes, she loved Seth—absolutely and irrationally—but she didn't give two shits about anyone else.

Living in the Cullen house, switching to a "vegetarian" diet, interacting with her brother, even trying to behave more humanly—it was all for Seth, so that he would accept her. So that he would love her. She didn't do these things because they were _right_. She did them because she thought it was what Seth wanted her to do. Unlike Nahuel, she didn't care at all whether or not she behaved like a monster. She didn't even _entertain_ the questions of conscience that my imprint agonized over every single day.

Edward probably hadn't been able to pick up on her deception because it just wasn't on her mind. She thought nothing of it. Why should she? She didn't care about right or wrong. Didn't give a damn that her silence had put everyone else at risk. She only cared about Seth and what he thought of her.

Seth swallowed hard, his dark eyes swimming with agony. He was surrounded by people who loved him—because _everyone_ loved Seth—but I knew that gave him no comfort at all right now. I wanted to put my arms around him and let him cry like a little boy. I wanted to take him somewhere away from all these too-kind, pity-filled eyes and give him the privacy in which to grieve the death of his illusions about his imprint.

I wanted to take Rosalie's suggestion and separate Anjali's fucking head from her miserable shoulders.

But Seth was leading our pack, and he didn't have the luxury right now of just being a broken-hearted boy. He had to be an Alpha and try to fill one hell of a big pair of shoes until we could find their rightful owner.

"We'll talk about us later," he said, gruffly. "Right now, I need you to answer Jasper's questions."

He'd worded his response perfectly. She would have ignored Jasper and everyone else until hell froze over. But if she thought Seth wanted those answers too, she'd cough up any information they asked for.

Again she answered Jasper without looking at him. "Remy's ability is not constant. He 'tunes in,' like a radio. He can't remain connected indefinitely and can only see through one individual at a time."

"That's good, right?" Emmett, the eternal optimist, was obviously trying to find the silver lining in the situation. "It means anything that we didn't discuss in front of Anjali, Leah and Nahuel may still be safe from Joham."

Jasper shook his head. "There's no way to know what he's seen or heard. I think we have to assume Joham knows that we're tracking Jacob and Renesmee right now."

Jasper turned back to Anjali. "Have you communicated directly with Joham or anyone who works with him while you've been in Forks?"

As if she saw an opportunity to minimize the hideousness of her betrayal, she responded eagerly. "Seth, I haven't spoken with Father or communicated with him in any way," she said, her wide eyes full of hope and adoration. "He only knows whatever he has learned through Remy. I knew you didn't want me to help Father, so I broke off all communications. I wouldn't hurt you that way."

"Yeah, you're a regular fucking saint," Rosalie muttered. "You didn't lie directly. You just left out the whole truth."

_Sound like anyone we know?_ The school girl jibed.

"Rose," Carlisle sighed. "At least going forward we have the advantage of Bella's shield. Joham won't be getting any more information through his remote viewer."

"I can keep everyone covered for as long as we need," Bella confirmed.

Everyone? We were a big group. I'd had no idea she was that powerful.

"We need to consider our next step," Edward said. "We need to change our plans."

He had a point.

"We should do something he wouldn't expect," I volunteered, surprising myself that I could speak at all. My fury at Anjali and my heartbreak for Seth had successfully suborned my fear—for now.

All eyes turned to me.

"You have an idea?" Jasper asked.

I opened my mouth to speak, but caught myself before anything spilled out. Anjali was still staring intently at Seth, but I thought her demeanor had an undertone of … listening? Observance? I didn't want to take the chance.

"Yeah, I do. But I don't want to talk about it in front of _her_," I said flatly, bobbing my chin toward Anjali.

My words hung dense and heavy in the air of the clearing. Seth looked utterly stricken by my reminder that he could not trust the woman he loved. I shook my head regretfully.

"I'm really sorry, Seth, but you know I'm right."

Seth swallowed hard and looked away from me, rubbing his big hand vigorously over his sallow face. He was six years younger than me, but suddenly his weary eyes looked a century older than Nahuel. Finally, he nodded, staring at the ground.

"Paul?"

Jake's brother-in-law was the only other pack member who'd taken human form for this discussion, and he'd been largely silent. Probably too shocked and upset by Anjali's revelations to indulge in his usual stupid behavior.

"Yeah?"

My brother looked up at last, but not at Anjali. He was looking at me with that lost expression I remembered so well from the night our father died.

"Would you mind taking Anjali back down the trail a ways?" He finally turned his gaze to Paul. "You don't need to go far. Just out of earshot. Take Quil with you."

Even Paul wasn't big enough of an asshole to give Seth a hard time right now. "Sure thing, man." He turned to Anjali, his eyes hard and disapproving, and gestured wordlessly for her to precede him out of the clearing.

The betraying bitch looked like Seth had just ordered Paul to take her straight to hell. I really wished he had.

"You're sending me away?" Her voice trembled pathetically and her huge hazel eyes started leaking again.

_Not venomous, my ass. She's the worst fucking kind of poison. _

"I can't trust you right now," Seth replied, and I was impressed by the determination in his voice. Amazed at his strength. Now that I had an imprint of my own, I finally understood the power of the bond. Having to push his imprint away had to be ripping Seth's guts out. I didn't think I'd be able to do it.

Anjali's tears had escalated from a drizzle to flat-out sobbing. She hugged her arms around her ample chest and just stared at Seth, shaking like a scrap of trash trapped by the wind against a fence wire. I wasn't buying the performance, but it apparently softened Seth the tiniest fraction.

"It's just for a little while," he told her gently. "Paul and Quil will take care of you."

"I'm sorry, Seth," she cried again. "Do you still love me?"

I saw red. I really wanted to just slap the shit out of her in that moment for demonstrating how little she really knew my brother. If she'd had any idea of who he really was, how profoundly and whole-heartedly he loved not just her but everyone in his life, she'd have known that she could only lose his trust. She'd added insult to injury by implying that he'd withdraw his affections. Of course, she didn't _deserve_ his love, but she should have known she would still have it.

My fury spilled out of my mouth. "You stupid, selfish cuh—"

"Leah!" Nahuel interrupted sharply. His arms tightened around me and forced me to choke off my rant if I wanted air. He whispered softly in my ear. "Please do not make this any more difficult for Seth than it already is."

He was right. Of course he was right. My calling Anjali names wasn't going to hurt her at all. It would only hurt my brother.

I didn't trust what would come out of my mouth if I opened it just then, so I kept it shut, and gave Seth an apologetic half-smile instead. He shook his head sadly, then refocused his attention on his imprint.

"Love isn't the issue," he told her quietly. "Please go now."

Still, she didn't move. Paul looked from her to Seth, at a loss as to how to budge her.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Rosalie muttered in annoyance. She flitted to Anjali's side and touched her far more gently than I would have imagined she could. Far more gently than I could have managed at the time. She gripped Anjali's shoulders and eased her around to face Paul, then gave her a nudge in his direction.

"Just do as Seth asks and everything will be fine," she told the sobbing half-vamp.

Finally, Anjali began to move, shuffling through the snow and heading back up the ridge that surrounded the clearing. Paul and Quil fell into step behind her.

"Give them a few minutes," Jasper said quietly.

I didn't have a watch, so I wasn't sure how long we waited until Jasper seemingly decided it was safe to continue our discussion, even though I couldn't tell what was different between this moment and the last.

"Leah, you had an idea?" Edward prompted.

That seed that had been quietly germinating beneath the surface now broke through.

"We should contact the Volturi," I said.

I knew I was talking out of my ass, but really … what more did I have to lose today?

Silence reigned for several heartbeats. Rosalie assassinated it.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" she shrieked.

Yeah, I really hated vamp-Barbie.

"Probably," I growled at her. "But so is Joham. We need to be at least as nutty as he is if we're going to beat his ass. He wants the Volturi to notice him? Let's help him out."

"Calling the Volturi isn't just insane, it's suicide," Bella protested. "Aro's been looking for an excuse to come after us for six years."

"That's exactly why we should call them," I replied, growing surer of my suggestion the more I thought about it. I twisted in Nahuel's arms so I faced Jasper. They could all protest as much as they wanted, but Jasper was the strategist. His opinion of my idea mattered more than anyone else's.

"You said yourself that those bodies …" I gestured toward the barn, "… are going to attract the attention of the Volturi sooner or later. Well, if we're pre-emptive, if we tell them about it first, they'll see we have nothing to hide. That we're not to blame for this. And maybe they'll be so pissed at Joham that they'll help us get him."

My eyes circumnavigated the crowd of supernatural that had molded itself around me during my little speech, pausing when they reached Carlisle. He was grinning at me like I was a precocious toddler who'd just sung "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" in perfect pitch. And in Portuguese. I glanced around again. A slight smile curled the corner of Jasper's lips, and Edward was outright smirking.

Did I have something caught in my teeth? Was my shirt unbuttoned or my high beams on?

"What?" I demanded, peevishly.

Edward answered. "Carlisle is tickled that you just said 'we' instead of 'you,' and Jasper's thinking your idea is a good one."

"_We?" "You?" So what? Oh .… _

Carlisle was back to that whole "part of the family" dreck. I made an overt show of rolling my eyes at him. It was the only comment he'd get out of me on that subject. I was more interested in hearing Jasper's thoughts on my idea.

"Inviting the Volturi into this will only make matters worse," Bella objected, her calliope voice chiming with alarm.

"Actually, Bells, I think Leah makes a very good point," Jasper said. "The Volturi will learn of this sooner or later, if they don't know already. If we're the ones who tell them, it won't be so easy for them to blame us. And if they do decide to help … well, let's just say they have a valuable skill set."

Bella shook her head. She'd been pigheaded as hell when she was human. Immortality hadn't softened that at all. "Help from the Volturi would come at a very high price." She turned to her husband. "Edward, you can't be thinking of agreeing to this."

I held my breath. If Edward accepted my idea, I was pretty sure Bella would go along too. If he rejected it, Jasper would probably walk away from it as well. I'd never had much faith in the judgment of this particular vampire. It seemed to me that he had a tendency to make obtuse decisions, for all his ability to read minds. But today was a day of surprises, it seemed.

He shook his head sadly. "If it helps us find our children, what price _wouldn't_ we pay?"

_Our children._

He'd said it before, when I'd been injured and he thought I might know what had happened to Renesmee and Jake. Like a thunderclap that splits a clear sky, I suddenly got it. Edward, Bella, Carlisle, Jasper—even Rosalie and Emmett—they were just as worried about Jacob as they were about Renesmee. They wanted to find my Alpha every bit as much as I did.

_They love him, too. _

Shame poked me painfully.

_I'm such a jerk._

"Yes." Edward directed his quiet murmur for me, although he knew there was no way to make the statement really private in this company. "On both accounts."

"Look, this needs to be said, so I'm going to say it," Rosalie interjected. "Finding Renesmee and the pup can't be our only objective. We need to find Joham and take him out."

Carlisle's distaste at the idea of intentionally ending another creature, even one as vile and sadistic as Joham, was clearly written on his handsome face. Blondie didn't miss it either.

"He's not going to stop impregnating humans until someone _makes_ him stop," she said. "What he's doing, using women as ignorant breeders, is loathsome, but that's not the only reason to take him out. Every time he does something like this …" she jabbed her finger toward the abattoir of a barn "… he risks exposing us all."

Into the brief silence that followed Rosalie's rant, Nahuel spoke the first opinion he'd voiced since the whole drama started.

"Rosalie is right," he said softly, finally releasing the stranglehold he'd had on my waist all this time. "My sire will continue to murder humans, create half-breed monsters and pursue Renesmee and myself as long as he is able. Ending him is the only solution."

My heart thumped unevenly at the thought of going after Joham. But I knew Rosalie and Nahuel were right. It had to be done. And if we were going to do it, we needed strength, advantage and numbers.

"We need the Volturi," I repeated, directing the force of my conviction squarely at Carlisle.

He would be the hold-out. And if he rejected the idea of killing Joham … well, we simply wouldn't do it. Carlisle met my gaze, and I could see reluctance warring with conviction on his face.

"Involving them is the only way to be sure we have the firepower to win," I said, playing my last ace, one that I knew he alone would understand and respond to. "We all have too much at risk."

Carlisle blinked at me. Maybe he was surprised by my boldness in alluding to my pregnancy in front of the whole group, and, more specifically, in front of Edward. Or maybe he just agreed with me all along. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the satellite phone he'd intended to use to keep in touch with Alice and Esme.

His eyes never left mine.

"I'll make the call."

* * *

><p><em><strong>End Note:<strong>_ _So who's ready to see things get even more weird and tense? (Insert evil laugh here.)_

_It's been brought to my attention that nominations are open for the Hidden Star Awards and that SSW may have been nominated. Hard to say, since they don't appear to post nominations until the voting opens. If you're interested, check it out at http: / thehiddenstarawards . blogspot . com/p/rules . html (You know to remove the spaces, right?)_


	32. Look Back in Anger

_**A/N: **I think this may be my longest lag yet between chapters, so I apologize for being such a slow-moving spud. My only defense is that while SSW has been creeping along, the rest of my life has been humming at warp speed. Thanks for your patience and for sticking with the story. Hopefully, the lag hasn't been so long that you all have to go back and reread the last chapter to know what's going on in this one._

_Thanks as always to Evelyn-Shaye and MunkeeRajah. I love them more than the '80s station preset button on my satellite radio!_

_It all still belongs to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just sneaking chocolates from her box of stale Valentine's candy._

* * *

><p>Chapter 32- Look Back in Anger<p>

**Leah POV**

_Six months._

I read the words repeatedly as Carlisle folded the tape measure he'd just stretched over my stomach and slipped it back into his medical bag. He'd just finished examining me, trying to pin down the baby's growth rate and when my pregnancy might reach full term. It had been only a day since we'd confirmed I _was_ pregnant, so I had no idea how he could tell anything just by comparing today's measurements with the ones he'd taken in his office yesterday, but I had to trust that he knew what he was doing. And that his pronouncement was more than an educated guess.

Six months.

Faster than a human pregnancy—by a _lot_—yet still slower than a human-vampire hybrid one, and by a much wider margin. I wasn't sure if Carlisle had just given me a new lease on life … or a six-month death sentence.

I paused, pen poised over the notepad in my lap, and weighed my response.

We were back to using that damned notepad for communication because there was no real privacy when you were traveling with a horde of supernatural beings. And now, with everyone waiting around to hear what—if anything—the Volturi might do to help us, everyone had too much time on their hands. Only Bella, Edward and Jasper were occupied; they were scouting the area around the barn, looking for clues and any signs of a trail we could follow. Quil and Paul were babysitting Anjali while the rest of the pack guarded a wide perimeter around the barn. No one was sure what to do about the bodies, so we'd decided not to do anything at all until we could connect with the Volturi. Jasper thought their tracker, Demetri, might see evidence that we'd missed.

Carlisle hadn't reached Aro directly with his first phone call. Instead, he'd spent thirty frustrating minutes on the phone with a series of underlings, all of whom hemmed and hawed, until the last one he spoke to finally agreed to relay a message. He'd ended the call with nothing more to show for it than a half-assed promise that someone would call him back in a few hours.

With some time to kill, he'd insisted on examining me under the guise of checking my back injury. To give us some semblance of privacy, and to create a temporary camp where pack members could rest in human form, he'd had Emmett and Rosalie set up a few small tents about a half mile south of the death barn.

It constantly amazed me how considerate the Cullens were of the humans they associated with. I'd barely thought to pack a change of clothes, some protein bars and a bottle of water in Seth's old backpack. Carlisle and his family had carried tents, blankets, sleeping bags and a lot of food—even though they needed none of it for themselves. What did it say about how good a mother I was likely to be when the living dead were more thoughtful than I?

Carlisle finished repacking his bag and waited, crouched quietly and gracefully in the low tent, while I scribbled a reply on our notepad.

_Six months? Is that good? Or bad?_

He read my note upside-down and responded before I'd finished writing.

"I'm optimistic," he murmured, a slight smile curling the corners of his mouth as he took the pen and pad from my hands again.

_**I'll be more confident after we've done a full ultrasound, but these early signs and the slower growth rate would seem to indicate a more human pregnancy.**_

I felt a little better at that. But he still hadn't answered my burning question—the one that mattered most in the end.

_So does that mean I'm in the clear for a 'normal' birth?_

Carlisle shook his head and my heart plummeted. It felt like the damn thing passed my perpetually upward-moving stomach on its way to my toes.

_**We can't assume anything. It might be wise to think about a planned caesarian when your due date approaches. Acting pre-emptively could minimize the risk of a traumatic delivery.**_

Traumatic delivery. I had to hand it to Carlisle; he knew how to soft-pedal a pretty horrific possibility with words that made it sound—almost—not so bad. But with memories of Nahuel's reaction to the dead women in that barn still bleeding in my brain, the reality of my situation wouldn't be glossed over so easily.

I was pregnant with the world's first vampire-human-werewolf hybrid. I was on a mission to hunt down and kill the baby's grandfather. While rescuing my friends. And keeping the knowledge of my pregnancy from everyone, but most especially from the baby's father. Oh yeah, and when I'd solved all my _other_ problems, I still had to figure out a way to convince my imprint that I wasn't going to die and that he should forgive me for lying to him.

_The improbable we do at once,_ the wolf bitch encouraged_. The impossible …._

I blew hair out of my eyes and scribbled a reply.

_Let's burn that bridge when we come to it. For now, I'm healthy and the baby's healthy, right? _

Carlisle nodded. "Yes," he agreed in a normal tone. "That appears to be the case."

"Still no phasing, though, right?"

"It seems best to continue that precaution," he agreed. He hesitated, as if he wanted to say something else. Instead, he reached for the pen and pad.

_**In light of recent events, perhaps you might reconsider your decision to keep this news between the two of us. The longer this secrecy continues, the more complicated ending it will become.**_

A spark of ire dropped onto the dry tinder of my impatience. I forced myself to take a mental step back from the pyre, reminding myself that Carlisle was only trying to help. He must feel very strongly to suggest—yet again—that I come clean with Nahuel about my pregnancy. I didn't even need to dig very deep into my conscience to know that he was right. I'd already complicated the hell out of things by lying to Nahuel, but I sure wasn't going to admit that to Carlisle. It wouldn't do either of us any good at this point.

_Not yet, doc. I need a few more days of good news like this before I can tell him_

He nodded reluctantly, concern drawing his perfect brows into a very human-like frown.

_Please trust me. And give me a break and don't bring this up again. I'm working on it. Really. _

Carlisle tipped his golden head with a slight regretful shake. "Very well," he murmured, disapproval plain in his low voice.

It was as close as he would probably ever come to outright telling me I was full of bullshit. I ripped the page off the notepad, tore it into tiny pieces and shoved the mess into the bottom of my backpack.

Without further comment, Carlisle rose agilely, opened the tent flap and stepped outside. I scrambled clumsily after him on my hands and knees, gaining my feet once I was free of the tent opening.

Several yards away from our impromptu camp, Seth and Nahuel sat side by side on a fallen tree, their backs to the tents. My brother slumped forward, his head bowed in his hands. Nahuel's left hand clasped Seth's right shoulder, and his scarred forearm rested on my brother's broad back in a subtle, comforting half-embrace. Nahuel was saying something, his voice pitched low so that it wouldn't carry beyond Seth's ears.

Clearly, they were sharing a moment of some kind, and I hesitated to interrupt it.

I wanted desperately to be able to comfort them both, but I felt at a total loss as to how to do that. What words of encouragement could I offer them that wouldn't ring false? They both still loved Anjali, while I'd written her off days ago. As far as I was concerned, the only reason the bitch was still breathing was that killing her would violate the law against harming another wolf's imprint. I was pretty sure Paul felt the same way, so I was really glad Seth had assigned him babysitting duties.

While I debated whether to approach them, Seth lifted his head from his hands and nodded toward Nahuel before rising to his feet. I could see him pulling himself together as he rose, forcing his pain and defeat away. Nahuel remained seated, gazing absently into the forest as Seth approached Carlisle and me.

"Everything okay?"

My brother's eyes were on me as he spoke, but his question was clearly meant for Carlisle. The last thing he needed was one more thing to worry about, so I spoke up before my vampire doctor responded with anything less than a cheery reply.

"Great!" I chirped.

My overly upbeat tone prompted Seth to cock a skeptical eyebrow in my direction. "Really?" He turned his questioning gaze to Carlisle. "What about phasing?"

"Leah's health appears to be good, but I do feel her condition still merits some extra caution." Carlisle circled the truth smoothly and convincingly, never batting a single perfect eyelash at the hidden outrageousness of his statement. "I recommend she continue to avoid phasing if at all possible."

Seth sighed and nodded reluctantly. "Okay. Well, that complicates things a bit, but we'll deal. Carlisle, I think we should check in again with Esme and Alice. See if your phone call to Italy turned up anything that Alice can see."

"Agreed," Carlisle said. "Let's gather Edward and Jasper as well, to see if they have anything new to add."

Seth and Carlisle headed back in the direction of the barn, and since I wasn't needed—and the last place I wanted to go was back to that god-awful barn—I moved to the log where my imprint sat and took over the spot Seth had occupied beside him. He reached for my hand and turned toward me.

"Are you well?" Concern shaded his lustrous voice. "What did Carlisle say?"

"He said my health is good." I wanted to give him as much truth as I could, and this was exactly what Carlisle had said, albeit I was being intentionally fuzzy about the context. "But still no phasing, just to be on the safe side."

He nodded, distracted, his teak eyes wandering away from mine. I drew a fortifying breath.

"Baby, do you want to talk? It might make you feel better."

His full lips tugged upward in a half-hearted smile. Tipping his head to the side, he studied me from the corner of his eyes.

"Where should I begin? So many topics are of interest to us today."

I loved his attempt at humor, but didn't particularly appreciate his sarcasm. Still, considering the sheer preponderance of crap he was dealing with, I couldn't really be annoyed with him.

"Why don't you tell me how you're feeling about your sister right now?" I chose my words to remind myself—as much as him—just who Anjali was to Nahuel. I needed to be careful; I couldn't let my hatred for her hurt my imprint.

For a moment, he said nothing, and I feared I was watching the first layer of that fucking wall going back up. So I was startled when he turned fully to face me and pulled me into his arms. At first, I thought he'd only intended to hug me, but he pulled me onto his lap. I'm not a lap-sitting type of woman, but when he laid his head against my chest, listening to my heart, I couldn't put up a fuss. He was asking me, without words, for comfort.

"I am very angry," he murmured. "I do not understand why she would keep secrets from her mate and her family. "

Guilt strangled me, forcing the half-breath of air I'd been holding forcefully from my lungs. My heart began to slam, and of course, with his cheek pressed against my breast bone, he heard it. He lifted his head to look at me questioningly.

"Is something wrong?" Worry weathered his golden eyes. "Have I upset you in some way?"

Here was the downside of the two-way nature of a wolf-hybrid imprinting bond. Just as I was zeroed in on his emotions, he was attuned to mine. A month ago, I might have been able to tell him nothing was wrong, or make up a cockamamie story that he'd have swallowed without question. That time was long passed, and I needed to give him at least a little of the truth.

"I just feel guilty," I said, lowering my eyes to our joined hands. "I feel like a hypocrite, judging Anjali for keeping secrets from her imprint, when I did the same thing not that long ago."

_What the fuck are you doing?_ The wolf bitch shrieked in my head. _Do you want to get caught? Change the subject!_

I held my breath, waiting to see if he bought it. He did_._

"The situations are very different," he objected, shaking his head before returning to his resting place against my chest. "Your deception was to protect yourself from what you perceived to be an emotional threat, and it harmed no one but the two of us. Anjali had no reason to fear telling Seth the truth, and her lies have risked everyone he loves. She had no one to protect but our sire, and he deserves no loyalty from either of us."

Was that it? I'd automatically assumed she didn't tell us about Remy because she was protecting her father, helping him. But was that really her motivation? It didn't make sense the more I thought about it. I hadn't seen her direct even a hint of affection toward her father. It was hard to believe she cared about him more than she did Seth. Yet Nahuel was right that her silence made no sense unless she was protecting someone. So if she hadn't been shielding Joham, who was she protecting? I couldn't shake the creeping dread that, once again, I was missing something important.

He shook his head again, turning his face further into my chest. "I do not understand what could possibly induce her to hurt Seth for any reason," he sighed.

I had no answers for him, and our brief conversation had only raised more questions for me. My mind wandered for a while, moving back and forth between my fight with the mind-molesting vamp in the barn a few days ago, and the more recent confrontation with Anjali.

"I am also annoyed with _you_." I was startled by the abruptness of his declaration and the irked tone in which he delivered it. My heart started to slam again. Did he suspect?

"Oh? And why is that?"

He pushed back and looked me in the eye. "You suspected Anjali was dishonest, yet you said nothing to me of your thoughts."

Of all the reasons I knew that he had to be angry with me—ones he knew about and the others that he wasn't aware of—I hadn't thought of this one. I could only hope he attributed the weakness in my voice to remorse, rather than bone-melting relief that he was angry over past misbehavior instead of anything I was—or wasn't—saying right now.

"How could I say anything, Nahuel? I had no evidence. I didn't want to hurt you and Seth by accusing her without proof. What if I'd been wrong?"

I thought my defense was pretty good, but he wasn't giving ground.

"That reasoning can justify your silence to Seth, but it does not excuse you for withholding your thoughts from me."

He was trying to sound stern and disapproving, but I could see the undercurrent of hurt he was trying to hide. Tension tightened the line of his jaw, and I fought the urge to lean over and lick the rigidity away.

"I am yours and you are mine. Have I not yet proven myself to you? Do you still have reason to doubt that there is nothing you cannot tell me?"

Guilt had been slowly dripping on me, thumping away at my sanity like the maddening kerplunk of a leaky faucet that you just can't get fixed. His gentle reproof and wounded expression turned the drip into a torrent, and suddenly I was floundering. Horrified, I felt the burn of tears prick behind my eyes. I couldn't let him see those treacherous tears; he'd realize something major was up with me or, worse, he'd assume he'd done something horribly wrong to make me cry.

I leaped off his lap and turned my back, as if I intended to walk away from him. Yeah, like _that_ would ever happen. But he seemed to think I might do just that, because he was on his feet instantly, his big, warm hand closing gently around my elbow. Before he could speak, I jerked my arm from his hand and tapped the well of rage I was carrying for Anjali so that I could get just the right amount of anger into my voice.

"Come on, Nahuel. Every couple has some secrets from each other." I knew I was playing a dangerous game, but I had to turn this argument away from _my_ secrets, because I was on the verge of blurting out the biggest one. And I was certain to my marrow that he wasn't ready yet to handle it. "You can't tell me you've been honest and open with me about everything in your past."

He growled behind me, grabbed my arm again and spun me around to face him. Even though he'd said before that he was angry with me, he hadn't been—not really. Now, he definitely was. Of course he'd respond to my feigned ire with real anger and allow it to feed his insecurities. His normally warm, teak eyes were cold and hard, his full lips twisted back from his gleaming teeth.

"Ask me anything about the century and a half I wasted before I met you," he snarled. "There is nothing I will not tell you, no matter how detestable. Do you want to know if I fed on innocents? I murdered _many_, and there is nothing I can do to change that. Do you want to know if I copulated with every female vampire I encountered? I did, without even knowing why I felt compelled to do so."

He dropped my arm and retreated a step, and I knew I'd pushed him too far when I watched the anger on his angel's face morph into self-loathing. Even now, revulsion at his vampire nature could overwhelm him so easily. Anjali's betrayal already had him reeling, and now my diversionary tactic had just reminded him that deep down he believed he was no better than her.

"Do you wish me to say that I am aware I am not fit to be around decent beings? That I am not worthy of your love, no matter what you say? I admit all those things!"

I launched myself into his arms, hitting him so hard he staggered back another step. His heel caught on the log we'd been sitting on, and we flopped backward over it, crashing to the ground with me on top of him. The air left his lungs in a whoosh and before he could reclaim it, I cradled his face in my hands and covered him with wet kisses.

"I'm sorry, baby," I babbled. "You're right. I should have told you. I'm so sorry. Please don't do this to yourself. I love you! I'm such a bitch—"

He rolled me to my back and covered my body with his, his mouth instantly on mine. Our combined body heat quickly melted the snow beneath us, soaking my back from shoulders to thighs. I didn't care at all. The only thing that mattered was that in trying to protect him—and myself, if I was being honest—I'd hurt him again, when he was _already_ in pain because of his sister's duplicity. If it would make him feel better, I'd let him take me right here in the snow and cold.

Nahuel rarely did exactly what I expected, however, and just as he'd reined in his passion all those weeks ago in the laundry room of my mother's house, he tamped it down now. He remained sprawled on top of me, pressing me down into the frosted ground, but he disengaged from my mouth and raised his head to peer down at me. I was actually relieved to see a hint of annoyance had returned to his eyes. Angry beat hurt any day.

"You will be the death of me, Leah," he murmured, sliding his arms under my shoulders to lift my head and upper back off the wet ground. "I do not wish to argue with you, or distract you from our differences with physical intimacy. I only wish to know you trust me."

He flayed my heart again. "How can you even ask that?"

I'd welcomed him into my home, let him befriend my fragile human mother, and fucked him mindless more times than I could count. He was the reason I drew breath.

"Of course I trust you!"

"Then please begin behaving as if you do, and stop withholding your thoughts from me," he countered, not giving ground. "If you had told me of your suspicions, we might have been able to make all of this a bit easier on Seth."

Abruptly, he climbed off me and pulled me smoothly to my feet. His warm hands brushed briskly over my back, flicking away clumps of snow, dirt and twigs.

"I love you, and there is nothing I will not tell you. Please give me the same consideration. "

Part of me wanted to put him to the test and ask him to explain what he'd said earlier—when he'd been having his mini-meltdown after seeing the bodies in the barn—about fantasies and thoughts he was ashamed of. But he'd been through enough today, and honestly, nothing he could have said would make me think ill of him or love him less. Hell, it didn't even really matter to me that he'd just point-blank admitted to being a murderer and the vampire equivalent of a man whore. In my gut, I knew that had been a different lifetime, and a different Nahuel. That creature was gone, and in his place was a man who strived every day to be better than his past. How could I not love him for that?

"I love you too, Nahuel," I said, as meekly as I could manage. "I'll try to do better. Just please be patient with me. Can you do that?"

He laughed, and even standing there with a wet ass, the sound of his low, sultry chuckle sent tingles down my spine and heat pooling in my crotch. Then he rolled his eyes—actually _rolled_ those damned exotic, intoxicating eyes—and muttered in mock annoyance: "A hundred and fifty years of waiting for her and she questions my ability to be patient!"

The sound of footsteps approaching quickly through the forest interrupted our banter. Carlisle, Jasper and Seth appeared between the tents dotted among the trees. When they reached us, Seth phased to human form and yanked on his shorts.

"Aro called," Carlisle said without preamble.

My heart stuttered painfully. Nahuel must have heard it, because he slipped an arm around my shoulders and peered at me worriedly.

"What did he say?" I wasn't sure which would be worse—to hear that the Volturi had told Carlisle to go fuck himself, or that they were on their way.

"He's sending a contingent of the guard to help us."

"He's not coming himself?" Relief was skirting the edges of my awareness. I hadn't allowed myself to really think about the possibility that the creepy, mind-reading leader of the Volturi would show up—or that my secret would have been out the moment he shook Carlisle's hand in greeting.

Carlisle seemed surprised by the question. "No, that was never a probability."

"Just as well," Jasper interjected. "He'd 'a been more hindrance than help."

Seth shook his head thoughtfully. "I don't know. He could have read Anjali's mind and discovered if there's anything else she's not telling us."

As soon as the observation was out of his mouth the misery he'd been holding inside leaked onto his face. He half-turned away and cast his wet eyes to the ground. Wordlessly, Nahuel reached across the arm's length between them, and gently clasped Seth's shoulder. He gave it a slight shake before releasing Seth.

"Remember what we discussed," he murmured. "You have all of eternity."

What was that supposed to mean? I wanted to ask, but I didn't want to violate my brother's privacy any more than it already had been today. Instead, I turned back to Carlisle and Jasper.

"So what's the plan?" I asked. "When will they get here?"

"We're going to split up," Jasper answered. "Carlisle and Rosalie will meet the Volturi contingent in Anchorage and lead them here. The rest of us will continue north, looking for Jacob and Renesmee. We'll have to rely on Anjali to help track them, at least until Demetri arrives."

So the Volturi were sending their tracker. I had no trouble remembering the slight, almost effeminate vampire from our confrontation with the Volturi six years ago. Back then, the thought that he could find anyone, anywhere, had scared the crap out of me. Now, I couldn't wait for him to get here, because I actually trusted his loyalty to the Volturi more than Anjali's toward us. Of course, I didn't verbalize that thought.

"How long before we can meet up with them?"

"That's the interesting thing," Carlisle said. It was physically impossible for his marble-smooth brow to furrow, but somehow he still managed to convey the effect of a frown. "They were already on their way. They'll arrive in Anchorage early tomorrow morning. Aro didn't elaborate, but it seems the Volturi were already preparing for a confrontation with Joham."

"Who have they sent, besides Demetri?" Nahuel asked.

"I don't know," Carlisle replied, shaking his head. "We'll just have to wait and see. Rose and I are leaving right away. I suggest that the pack rest for the night and resume the search first thing in the morning. We'll keep in touch via satellite phone and rejoin you as soon as possible."

It was Seth's call whether to stay the night in one spot or press on. But no one had yet answered a question that had been burning in my mind since we discovered the contents of that fucking barn earlier today.

"What about the bodies? Are we just going to leave them there?"

Carlisle and Seth both dropped their eyes, almost seeming guilty. It was Jasper who answered.

"There really isn't any other option," he said, watching Nahuel and me closely. Maybe he was afraid one—or both—of us would have another emotional break over his pronouncement. "The Volturi need to see what Joham has done, and Demetri might find more evidence there than we've been able to. Once he's been through the barn, we'll burn it to the ground."

"But those people … surely they had families. Someone must be searching for them," Nahuel objected, his voice taut with dismay. "Are they never to know what has become of their loved ones?"

"Even if we could identify them and find their families, what would we say?" Jasper challenged gently. "How could we tell them their loved ones were victims of a vampire madman? We can't."

I wasn't thrilled with the idea of leaving those bodies in the barn, either, but …

"He's right, Nahuel," I murmured, slipping my arm around his waist and giving him a comforting squeeze. I wanted to tell him I was moved by his show of humanity, by the fact that he thought of the victims' families. But now was not the time.

"Carlisle, if you go to meet the Volturi, who will care for Leah?" Nahuel asked, diverting my attention from the issue of the barn. "And what if Jacob and Renesmee are injured when we find them?"

"I'm leaving my medical supplies with Edward," Carlisle replied. "I'll rejoin the group as quickly as possible, but Edward has several medical degrees. He will be more than capable of caring for Jacob and Renesmee, although he may not have as much faith in his own abilities as I do."

His golden eyes flickered to me. "Leah, you can trust Edward to help you, as well."

I forced myself not to stiffen at Carlisle's hidden message. I'd been trying my damnedest not to think about my pregnancy when Edward was around, so that he had no opportunity to pluck the information from my brain. Now, Carlisle was suggesting I confide in him. I wasn't sure if I was ready for that, but I certainly wasn't about to debate the matter in front of an audience.

"I'll think about it," I muttered, drawing a quizzical look from Nahuel.

Carlisle's eyes clearly said he doubted I'd seriously consider his suggestion. The corner of his mouth quirked down, but he said nothing more on the matter.

"Very well, then. I'll go collect Rose and we'll head out." He turned to Jasper, clapping his adopted son on the back. "I'll check in with you when we reach Anchorage. Good luck."

Carlisle slipped quickly through the trees, disappearing out of sight in the direction of the barn. Jasper watched him go, then turned back to our troubled trio.

"You should all get some rest," he urged. "You've been through a lot today, and we need everyone in peak form tomorrow. Seth, I'll sit with Anjali if you want to catch some shut-eye."

Seth winced at the mention of his imprint's name. "Thanks, Jazz, but she and I need to start talking to each other. The sooner we talk, the sooner we … she … can get better. I'll stay with her tonight."

_Get better?_ What the fuck was he talking about? He sounded like he thought she had the flu instead of a terminal case of the evil crazies. I opened my mouth to call him on it, but Nahuel pressed me gently into his side. I glanced up at him.

"Later," he murmured. "You require sleep."

I knew he was right, but I was so keyed up over the day's events that I doubted I'd be able to sleep any time soon. Jasper and Seth left the clearing together and moments later, Beau and Embry slunk into the camp in wolf form. They both phased shamelessly in front of us.

"Seth told us to grab some shut-eye," Embry explained as Beau crawled into one of the tents. "Quil and Paul are running patrol."

I nodded but said nothing as Embry made his way into a second tent. Within seconds, their loud snores filled the cold twilight air. This was probably as much privacy as we were going to get for a long while.

"Nahuel, what was that about with Seth?" I asked quietly, as he led me back toward the tent where Carlisle had examined me earlier. "What did you mean … 'all of eternity'?"

He paused with his hand on the tent flap. He was obviously debating with himself whether to answer me or refuse to explain. I thought he would tell me his conversation with Seth had been private, but he surprised me again, speaking with a directness I hadn't expected.

"Ñi piuque, I am aware that you do not approve of my sister," he began, pausing when he saw my frown. "Please hear me out. Regardless of your opinion of her, she is Seth's imprint. You may choose to remain angry with her forever, but Seth does not have that luxury. He is bound to her for the rest of his life, and he will be miserable if he cannot find a way to forgive her and rebuild his trust in her."

My stomach cramped painfully at the reminder that my baby brother was bound body and soul to a viper. At the same time, I felt a surge of pride and awe that my vamp-boy could be so perceptive, that he'd come to understand the imprinting bond so well. And on the heels of that thought came gratitude and guilt that Nahuel would never put me through the kind of agony Seth was enduring right now because of his imprint.

"While Carlisle examined you, Seth and I discussed this," Nahuel continued, pulling aside the tent flap and motioning me forward. I crawled inside and sat cross-legged on the padded, insulated floor while Nahuel zipped the flap shut behind him. He knelt in front of me and took my hands.

"I told Seth not to lose hope," he murmured, studying my fingers. "I told him that the imprinting bond is very powerful, and that as long as Anjali loves him, the opportunity exists for her to learn right from wrong."

His golden eyes rose to meet mine. "She does not yet know that," he explained quietly. "Until she met Seth, she only knew what our sire had taught her. Now, she only knows that she loves Seth. I told him he must teach her, and that if anyone can … _save her_ … as you saved me … it will be him. And I reminded him that he has all of eternity in which to do it."

Emotion closed my throat and pressed up behind my eyes. It was going to spill out. I was going to cry. Trying to prevent him from seeing the wetness in my eyes, I climbed into his lap, draped my arms around his shoulders and buried my face in the curve of his neck.

"Wow, I guess you learn a lot about life in a hundred and fifty years, huh?" I teased, relieved that I didn't sound like a weeping ninny.

His arms swept around me and he hugged me back. He chuckled softly into my hair.

"Actually, these are very recent revelations," he whispered, his deep voice sweet and adoring. "The wisest woman I have ever known taught me these things over the past two months."

It was a tender, perfect moment, and I kept my mouth shut so I wouldn't ruin it. But inside my head, the school girl and wolf-bitch were alternating between peals of mocking laughter and shrieks of outrage.

_If you were wise, you'd figure a way out of your lies_, the school girl jeered, cutting deeply_. _

The wolf-bitch hit bone:

_If you were really so fucking smart, you would never have started telling them in the first place._


	33. Man without a Mouth

_**A/N:** "Season of the She Wolf" won a Sunflower Award for Best Wolf Story, so thanks to everyone who voted! A few of you have asked how much more story is left, and the answer is - not much. More than five chapters but probably less than 10. I have a few other things in the works too, including a long-overdue fourth outtake, so if you haven't already put me on author alert, please consider doing so._

_Thanks as always to Evelyn-Shaye and MunkeeRajah, the two most eagle-eyed betas in the world. I love them more than my much-played Breaking Dawn soundtrack CD!_

_Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer and no copyright infringement is intended._

* * *

><p>Chapter 33 – Man without a Mouth<p>

**Jake POV**

I awoke in agony.

Pain twisted and gnarled my limbs like the tangled roots of an upended tree. Sharp and sawing, it grated deep into my body, burned through my stomach lining and scorched down my intestines.

This pain was a pure prism of intensity; it focused and exaggerated the urge to change. The compulsion to escape through transformation was almost irresistible.

I wanted to give in. Wanted to phase so damn badly. The wolf gnashed his teeth and gnawed at my guts, fighting to get out. But I held him back.

Why?

I was waiting. For something? No. Someone. What?

My eyes clenched shut against the torture. As if not seeing the mangled mess she'd made of my flesh would somehow make it hurt less.

Her sweet voice slivered the darkness in a whisper so low it barely stirred the rancid air. I didn't really hear it so much as sense it at a cellular level. The vibration of my every molecule was attuned to her. Only her.

"Jake, someone's coming."

She was my purpose. Both the creator of the pain and the reason why it was necessary. To protect her, I burned. To save her, I waited. To see her—maybe for the last time—I pried my eyes open.

Dimly lit in the weak light reflected off the pallid gray walls of our prison, her beautiful face swam into my line of vision, and I shattered. Tears slicked her soft, pale cheeks. The sight hurt more than the broken bones. She was so afraid. So fucking sad. I couldn't stand it.

"Renesmee."

My voice was a hollow, used-up rasp. I ran out of words. I ran out of air. I hesitated, my body and mind reaching for both necessities.

She glared at the door and, without looking at me, dragged me upright by the arm. The movement hammered misery through my throbbing fingers. I gasped and flinched, trying to pull away from the hurt.

The massive metal door made a clicking sound. With a loud, drawn-out creak like something out of a low-budget horror flick, it slowly swung open. Like sunrise over a mist-shrouded mountain, the sound and movement burned away the haze of my confusion. Between the intake of breath and the exhalation, I knew what I needed to do.

I phased.

Before Joham's offspring had the door even halfway open, my fangs ripped through her throat.

I wanted to gag. The tang of her blood, the scent of her rending flesh, flooded my senses. She fucking _tasted_ like Nahuel smelled, and for a lost, bewildered moment, the man in me screamed that I was murdering something that was a part of my friend. Worse, that I was killing someone who was like my mate.

In the next second, the Alpha wolf ascended.

And I painted the walls of our shitty little prison with the half-vampire's blood.

SSW/SSW/SSW

We couldn't keep on like this. _I_ couldn't.

Pain, piercing and cold, spiked through all four of my paws every time they touched the hard-packed snow. Or lifted off the ground. Or moved through the frigid air.

The broken bones had knitted, so they supported my weight, but they'd knitted _wrong_. They ground and grated against each other agonizingly with every movement, and I knew there was no relief in sight until Carlisle rebroke them and set them right. That wasn't going to happen any time soon.

Each pulse of pain wrested a wounded, bestial whimper from my dumb animal throat. Renesmee echoed every whimper with a ragged sob. Her anguish, _that_ was what would break me, not the misery in my body.

She had to stop, or I'd go insane.

My brain was a scramble of wolf and man, and I couldn't make sense of the past few hours. Couldn't sort through the jumbled memories of pain and fear. The only thing clear and sharp was the sound of my mate's weeping.

It wasn't like the pain in my paws would kill me. I was in more danger from the trench-like, jagged gashes the hybrid ripped down my flank. Bitch only landed one hit, but it was a good one. The wounds were wide and deep, and they steadily oozed blood and fluid that had turned milky and foul-smelling in the last hour. For some reason I couldn't fathom, they weren't healing.

But Renesmee wasn't crying because of those wicked wounds. No, she wept over the pain _she_ had caused. I wanted to tell her to stop. My wolf vocal chords couldn't produce the human sounds, though, and all that came out was a strangled grunt that made her sob harder. She was crying _so_ hard I wondered how she could breathe, let alone keep moving.

She was all but hauling my huge, hairy ass through the forest, her tiny fingers sunk deep into my ruff. I barely crept along, my furry gut dragging along across the frozen ground like the old-pooch paunch that my sister's geriatric beagle developed the year before it died.

When the wolf wanted to lie down beneath the bleak, ashen sky and lick his wounds like the dumb fucking animal he was, my half-vampire mate forced me back up onto the lumps of solid pain that had replaced my paws. Between her breathless sobs, she kept up a running litany of encouragement and pleading and cajoling.

"Come on, Jake, we have to keep moving."

"I'm so sorry, baby. So sorry, so sorry, so sorry …."

"Please love, just a little farther. Just a few more steps, I promise."

"My sweetheart, my darling, my strong, brave man …."

And when none of that seemed to move me fast enough to satisfy her, she resorted to over-the-top threats.

"Get your ass _up_, Jacob Black, or I'm going to tell my father you fucked me in that hellhole. I'll _show_ him everything we did in full, high-def technicolor, I swear to _God_ I will. He'll rip off your dick and feed it to your pack of mutts."

I would have laughed at that one, if I'd been able.

SSW/SSW/SSW

The wolf didn't need to think to move. Instinct could propel his limbs without conscious direction.

I'd learned this six years ago when I went completely fur-baby, trying to escape the emotional pain of a Bella-induced broken heart. At the time, I'd thought it was the worst misery I would ever suffer. What a joke.

This fear-enhanced pain was far worse, and by giving physical control over to the wolf, the man—little boy, really—made room in my head to worry about all the things I couldn't control.

I cowered inside the battered wolf. I was fucking terrified—of _everything_.

Not being able to protect my mate. The possibility that not even Carlisle would be able to fix me. If we ever saw him again. My growing suspicion that this had all been for nothing because I'd seen no trace of Leah or Nahuel, even though we'd been moving steadily south for hours.

The sense of eyes on me—the almost physical weight of a hateful glare against my fur—dragged me back toward reality. Someone was watching us, my wolf senses told me. The man reasoned against this. Joham's lackeys wouldn't just watch us. They'd be all over us. I'd be dead—a furry grease spot on the snow—if they'd really found us.

But I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched. I stopped shuffling forward and flopped down on my belly. I needed a minute.

I swiveled my head slowly to the left, where Nessie's frightened face hovered over my shoulder. Then back to the right where there was nothing but gray, barren-limbed trees. Trees and more fucking trees. Irrationally, I hated the sight of them.

Wearily, I wished for an owl's neck so I could do a three-sixty surveillance without having to actually get up to accomplish it. But my shape-shifting ancestors went with a wolf instead of a nocturnal raptor, so I levered up onto my haunches and dragged myself around to peer back the way we'd come.

I saw nothing. But I _felt_ it—hate and fear.

Maybe Ness felt it too, because she grabbed two big fistfuls of fur and pulled for all she was worth.

"Get up, Jake. We have to keep moving south."

I huffed a shallow breath—I hadn't been able to pull a deep one since the hybrid clawed me. It plumed in the cold air, and I felt the crystals collect around my muzzle, weighing me down as if they were stone instead of ice. I felt as if just one more frozen drop would be my tipping point and I wouldn't be able to get back to my feet.

"Please, baby," she begged, her voice a trembling whine. "I know you're tired, but our only chance is to keep moving."

I heaved myself back up onto my throbbing paws. You'd think my brain would have just given up by now and tuned out the pain. No such luck.

Renesmee's urgency made sense. Our family would be coming from the south. If we just kept going, I had to believe they would find us eventually. With their super senses, we could be miles off course and they'd still be able to find us.

As long as whatever was following us didn't find us first.

SSW/SSW/SSW

I'd slept standing up in the past, whenever I had needed to. Though I didn't think I'd ever slept while walking, I swore I was doing it now. And while I walked, I dreamt.

Dreamt about being home, in my bed in the Cullen house, Renesmee snuggled up beside me. Warm and comfortable and _safe_.

I heard my family's voice drifting from other rooms. Emmett and Jasper arguing over some stupid video game. The sound of Edward playing Bella's lullaby on the piano. Esme's sweet laughter at some excruciatingly human observation Bella just made.

And farther off, outside the house, the metallic clatter of tools as Rosalie worked on an engine. The soft thud of paws as my wolf brothers patrolled the forest. The sunshine and happiness of Seth's laughing, perpetually joyful mind. But as I listened, that sunlight darkened into ruby-tinged twilight.

What the hell?

_Seth?_

Suddenly I was fully awake, and I limped to a halt. The wolf had no concentration to spare for forward motion. He was totally focused on that distant hint of a whisper at the edge of awareness.

_SETH!_

Faintly—so faint I could almost believe I was imagining it, except I didn't have the energy or hope left for imagination—a reply sighed through the haze of pain and fear.

_Jake! Oh, thank God!_

Relief sucked the last vestiges of strength from my shaky legs, and I belly-flopped onto the cold hard ground. Renesmee, who had no way of knowing I'd just made contact with Seth, seemed convinced I'd given up. She seized both my ears and pulled, threw her full weight backward on her heels, and cursed inventively.

Seth. Of course Seth would be the one to find me first. He was the first to leave Sam and join my pack. The first to embrace the Cullens as family. I'd never loved the little asshole more than I did in this exact moment, and if he were in front of me, I'd honest to God kiss him right on the lips. For a second, I was so overwhelmed with gratitude that I couldn't even think a response at him.

_Jake?_ Panic seeped into his mental tone. _You still there?_

_Yeah, yeah. I'm here, kid. Just … really fucking happy to hear your voice._

_Me too, man. Me too._

And I could tell he was happy, because wasn't Seth _always_ happy? But there was something else there, too. Something under the surface that he was trying to hide from me. Seth never thought anything he wouldn't say, and the fact that he was trying to _not_ think about something he didn't want me to know scared the hell out of me. The only thing I could think was …

_No one's dead, Jake_. Seth's mental voice was calm and reassuring, but still holding back.

_Show me_, I demanded.

_I think it's probably better if you go first. You're in a lot of pain, man, and I think we need to find you as soon as possible. Edward's with me, so if you fill me in, he'll pass it on to the rest of the family._

I knew he was right, so I gave him a mental core dump—everything I could remember, no matter how jumbled, over the past few days. In the seconds it took me to do this, Renesmee decided she'd had enough of my lack of response. She began kicking my ass, still oblivious to the dialogue taking place in my brain. Her little sneakered foot slammed repeatedly into my shaggy rump.

There was no way she'd induce me to break my connection with Seth by phasing to human form to explain what I was doing, but she _was_ a distraction. Enough of one that the _adult content_ that I'd tried to edit out of my communication with Seth—and by default, Edward—slipped through. It dribbled out of my brain and straight into Seth's. To his credit, he covered his shock quickly, hastily attempting to contain my memories of being inside Edward's daughter.

Seth was silent for several long beats.

_Uh, shit. Sorry, Jake. I tried to keep that under wraps, man, but …._

Guilt and dread flummoxed me … for all of two seconds. Then I realized that in light of everything Renesmee and I had been through in the past few days, Edward being pissed about our cherry exchange was the least of my problems. I didn't regret being with her, giving her what she needed, and I sure as hell was not going to apologize for it.

_No worries, bro. It's a non-issue._

_Yeah, I don't think Edward sees it that way._

_I don't really give a crap. On the one-to-ten scale of "Shit that has me shaking in my boots," this one is a minus twenty. _

I raised my head and found the sun, gauging its position in the sky relative to the images of landscape that Seth broadcast to me as he continued running toward us.

_I don't think you're that far._ His proximity was confusing. In theory, if he'd just entered my range, he'd still be more than three hundred miles away from me. But judging from the sun's position overhead and the familiarity of the forest around him, he couldn't be more than fifty miles south of us. How did I not hear him until now? And why couldn't I hear anyone else?

_Seth, who else is with you? I can't hear anyone else in the pack. Where's Leah? I think you're close, but you … feel … far away._

His reply took too long—Ness had time to give me a dozen more sharp kicks in the ass while I waited to hear Seth's mind voice again. When it reached me, it was more muffled than before, even though it should be clearer as he moved closer.

_Jake? You still there? You're fading. You sound like you're underwater or something._

Now the fuzziness was leaking out of Seth's voice and into my head. Everything felt muted. Renesmee's curses were becoming distant. Even the impact of her feet on my backside felt like it was cushioned by a pillow.

I realized I was slipping into unconsciousness.

_Fuckfuckfuckfuck …._

I did the only thing I could think of to wake myself up and possibly help guide Seth to us. I threw my head back, heaved as much air into my pinched lungs as I could manage … and howled.

Nessie clapped her hands over her ears and staggered back, round-eyed in disbelief at the amount of noise I was making. I howled like I'd been shot. Like my life depended on it, which it just might at that point. I howled until my throat felt raw. I howled until I exhausted every molecule of oxygen in my bloodstream.

When my air ran out, I tried to haul another lungful into my body. But my drained lungs refused to re-inflate, and the weight of all existence came to rest on my chest.

I had strength to send one more thought Seth's way.

_Ah, shit._

And then I was gone.

SSW/SSW/SSW

The wolf had no sense of time passing. No capacity to recognize and define the moment of transition between unconsciousness and awareness. One second … he wasn't, and in the next … I was.

The pain-thickened haze of confusion returned with wakefulness. Part of my brain thought maybe I wasn't that awake. Just alert enough to register that everything freaking hurt, but not aware enough to be able to do anything about it. Certainly not in the world enough to willingly open my eyes and really look at the disaster my body had become.

"Daddy, why aren't you helping him?" Renesmee's voice was angry and accusing. "Give him something for the pain."

Edward's reply was measured and patient. I'd never heard him lose his temper with his daughter. "Sweetheart, I don't have anything that's appropriate to give him while he's still in wolf form. I need him to phase to human form so I can treat him."

"I thought Carlisle said you had a whole bunch of medical degrees." At Leah's abrasive voice, a pulse of relief pumped through my chest. Seth had said no one died, but until I heard her voice, I hadn't been sure my beta was really okay.

I wanted to tell her that I no longer blamed her for starting this whole mess by going after Nahuel alone. I'd finally admitted to myself that I would have done the same thing, and that I was wrong to try to force her to go against instinct and delay looking for her imprint. I should have gone with her right away. I would tell her. Soon. Real soon. Maybe later. Okay, later. Yeah, _much_ later.

"My degrees are in human medicine," Edward snapped. He had no problem displaying his impatience with Leah. "I don't know any more than you about treating a canine."

I felt a cold hand stroke my head. Edward's voice was far kinder than I would have expected, given what he knew had occurred between his daughter and me.

"Jacob, I need you to phase back to your human form," he said in an enticing tone I remembered from his attempts to get a very young, very stubborn Renesmee to take a bath when she wanted to keep playing. "I know you're in pain, but I can't treat you in this form. I have no way of knowing how much morphine to give you."

The wolf snarled and crouched, tail tucked between his legs. He was too afraid to yield control to the man.

"Please, baby," Ness begged.

_Come on, Jake. Phase. Everything will be fine_, Seth mind-whispered to me, and every one of my pack brothers echoed his encouragement.

I wanted to tell them "Not gonna happen," but my awareness started to slip sideways again. I rolled with it, knowing when the listing ended and I came to rest, I'd be blissfully unconscious again. I couldn't wait.

Leah's colorful swearing nearly drowned out the unmistakable sound of a bag being dumped on the ground. "Leah!" Bella barked, and I was glad to know she was here, too. "What are you doing?"

"I know Carlisle put smelling salts in here," Leah grumbled over the clattering sounds of bottles and plastic being sifted and sorted. "You want him to stop being a wolf, you need to give him some _incentive_ to stop being a wolf."

A loud pop sounded near my ear, and something hard and cold pressed against my left nostril. The most godawful, burning stench scorched up my nose and shafted straight into my brain.

I. Was. Awake.

The wolf instantly retreated from the horrific burning scent, abandoning the man in his haste to escape. I phased. Shifting those wrongly healed bones hurt like a bastard, so the first human words I uttered in hours were a string of curses directed at my beta's heavy-handedness.

"I hate you," I wheezed, my eyes springing open. "I really fucking hate you, Leah."

Leah knelt in front of me, an innocent-looking glass vial in her left hand. She smiled smugly, and I wanted to smack the smirk off her face. "Right back atcha, boss," she chuckled. She backed up a few feet and sat down, cross-legged in the snow, still in my line of vision. Nahuel appeared from nowhere and dropped down beside her. Bittersweet relief seeped through my veins at the sight of them safe and together.

Cold, hard hands skimmed my naked body as Edward began examining the injuries on my now-human form. I studied his hands warily as he prepared a shot. I couldn't help it; I felt like a wounded dog waiting for the shot that would put him down. I didn't _think_ Edward would kill me in front of Ness and Bella, but I was also pretty sure he was angry enough to _want_ to right now.

When he approached my arm with the needle, I flinched and rolled my eyes to meet his. His expression wasn't what I'd expected. He didn't look angry. He looked … hurt?

"I am very angry with you," he growled, his voice low and tight. "But only a complete beast would abuse you right now, and I try very hard not to be a monster. We need to get you to Carlisle. There will be time for us to … talk … later."

Even after knowing him for nearly ten years, Edward could still surprise me sometimes. I knew I wasn't getting a pass on the ass-kicking he thought I deserved. But I was glad he was willing to hold off for now.

"Where is Carlisle?" I asked, wincing as Edward slid the needle into my vein.

"In Anchorage," Jasper's voice answered. I hadn't realized he was here, but Edward's calm suddenly made more sense. I glanced around and realized my naked ass was the center of attention for a large group of people. It was like a convention of mythical creatures, I mused. All my pack brothers were there, along with all the male Cullens except Carlisle. Why the hell would they come after us without the one person we'd be most likely to need?

"Why's he in Alaska?"

Edward capped the needle and dropped it in the medical bag Leah had upended earlier. He seemed to be ignoring my question. Jasper studied me cautiously, but said nothing. I glanced around the circle that had gathered around me. No one appeared to be in any hurry to explain why the doc wasn't here.

"Will someone please tell us what's going on?" Renesmee pleaded. "Why is Grandfather not here? Jake needs him."

I already felt the morphine kicking in and knew I was going to be out again soon. I was hoping for at least some answers before I slipped off into Neverland again, but it wasn't looking good. I struggled to stay focused, but my eyelids felt as if each had a five-pound weight glued to it.

Leah's hot glare alternated between Edward and Jasper, as if she were willing them to open their mouths. Edward began wrapping my injured extremities in tight bandaging. The compression held my twisted bones in place, offering almost immediate relief from the grinding and grating. When both Edward and Jasper remained silent, Leah growled in frustration.

"Carlisle went to Anchorage to meet the Volturi," she snapped. Her scowl dared anyone to interrupt. "We weren't sure we'd be able to find you on our own, so we decided to involve their tracker."

If my brain had feet, they'd be wearing cement boots and dragging through quicksand right now, because that's about how fast I was processing information. "But you have a tracker," I observed lamely. "Didn't Anjali help you find us?"

Leah grimaced at the mention of Seth's imprint and gritted her teeth. I recognized the clear signs of an imminent Leah eruption. Apparently, so did Nahuel, because he gently laid his hand on her shoulder. It was like he'd opened a valve and released her steam. Amazed, I watched her anger deflate.

"She was of some assistance," Nahuel offered quietly. "There are extenuating circumstances, however, that required us to seek the Volturi's aid." He glanced at Edward questioningly. "Perhaps it would be better to carry Jacob to safety before discussing these matters in detail."

Edward nodded briskly and finished wrapping the last of my injured extremities before gently probing the gashes on my side. Even with the morphine, his examination motherfucking _hurt,_ and I couldn't hold back my hiss of pain.

"Damn it." Surprise and anxiety leaked into Edward's normally controlled voice. He glanced up at Ness, who'd been hovering over me quietly this whole time. "I thought you said the hybrid Jacob fought was female."

"She was," I groaned, instinctively trying to roll away from the pain his touch sparked in my wounds.

Abruptly, Edward pulled back and began scooping the spilled contents of his medical bag back into the satchel. Suddenly, he was in overdrive.

_What the hell? _I wanted to ask him what happened, what he'd seen in those wounds that had him so obviously rattled. But the morphine was kicking in and my tongue felt thick and useless.

"Emmett, pick him up," Edward commanded. "Jasper, call Carlisle and arrange for him to meet us as quickly as possible."

Renesmee scrambled to her feet as Emmett scooped me up. While any of the vampires would have been strong enough to carry me, Emmett's size made it easier for him to manage my long arms and legs. As my body left the ground, my vision fuzzed out. I was going back under, and part of me was glad to be headed away from the pain and confusion.

"Daddy?" Ness demanded. "What's going on? You're scaring me."

"We need to get Jacob to Carlisle immediately," Edward answered, and the anxiety in his voice scared me almost as much as waking up in that shithole of a prison had. "There is something in Jacob's wounds that looks like venom."

_Well that's a pisser._

* * *

><p><em><strong>End note: <strong>I don't often do this, but I'm pimping a fic I recently started following - BlindSpot by FictionFreak 95. It's got an interesting twist. Bella has a bit of psychic ability, Edward is an ex-cop with a troubled past, it's set in Louisiana. I like it because this Bella is no push-over. Plus, it's hot!  
><em>


	34. Quicksand

**_A/N:_**_ After a very busy first quarter at work, I'm hoping for some breathing room__ - and a little more time to write fanfic. Thanks to everyone for sticking with the story and to all the new readers. I'm curious to know where you heard about this story, or if you just happened upon it. I'd love to hear from you on that. _

_Thanks to my lovelies, MunkeeRajah and Evelyn-Shaye for giving up some of their spring break time to keep me on track. I love them more than Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs, and that's saying something!_

_ As always, Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just pawing through her Easte basket._

* * *

><p><strong>Quicksand<strong>

Leah POV

Ridged and ribbed like grosgrain ribbon, light danced across the breadth of the night sky. It ebbed and flowed, pulsed and throbbed in perfect synchronicity with the pounding in my head. I'd never seen the aurora borealis before, and under any other circumstances, I'd probably have been entranced by its eerie beauty.

But as Nahuel ran through the night, still carrying me, toward distant Denali National Park, I didn't have the emotional energy to spare for marveling at Mother Nature's artistry. My thoughts were miles ahead, where Emmett and Edward – both capable of moving far faster than one over-burdened hybrid and a pack of frightened werewolves – were approaching a rendezvous with Carlisle, the Denali coven, and the Volturi.

In his arms, Emmett carried the future of our pack – my ailing Alpha. My best friend. The one person in the world who truly saw the real me. Seth, Mom, Nahuel—they all loved me, but that blinded them to who I really was, deep down in my core. They thought far better of me than I deserved. Jake _knew_ me for the bone-deep bitch I was, yet cared about me anyway.

Six years ago, when I'd joined Jake's pack, I'd never have dreamed there would be a day when his life would depend on the aid of vampires. And that those vampires would be as terrified for his safety as his own pack mates were. Or that it would be me who'd put his life in danger.

Renesmee, Bella and Jasper had silently kept pace with the wolves for hours, but now, Jasper abruptly broke the peace.

"When we reach Denali, I think it would be a good idea to keep the Volturi focused on Joham, and away from the news that there are now three imprinted wolf-hybrid pairs," he said. His smooth drawl cut through the crisp night air clearly yet gently, despite the wind whipping past as the group ran.

Conversation with the vampires was beyond Seth's capabilities in wolf form, but he still managed to make his confusion known with a loud snort and a tilt of his huge, shaggy head in Jasper's direction. Nahuel's reaction was even more pointed—and typical of my territorial vamp-boy.

"Leah and I are to marry." His lush voice vibrated with resentment. "Why must we conceal that we are mated?"

Jasper's perfectly arched eyebrows climbed skyward, and for a moment, he seemed too surprised by Nahuel's sniping tone to respond. Bella's chiming voice filled the uncomfortable void.

"Jazz is right," she said. "The less attention you draw from the Volturi, the better. The last thing you want is Aro hearing about a rash of shape-shifters imprinting on half-vampires and taking an interest in the 'science' of it."

Her golden eyes settled on her daughter running beside her. "He's always had an unhealthy fixation on Renesmee," she observed. "Let's not give him any more reason to find us all … fascinating."

An icy weight congealed in the pit of my stomach, and I clutched Nahuel's shoulders tighter. I'd personally witnessed the avarice of the Volturi lord. I remembered the greedy glint that had glistened in his gory eyes all those years ago, when he'd tried to persuade Edward and Bella to join the guard—even as he schemed to slaughter their daughter.

If he'd been that fixated on procuring two "ordinary" gifted vampires, how much more enchanted would he be with the prospect of getting his undead claws on a pregnant shape-shifter who was carrying the world's only werewolf-human-vampire hybrid?

Seth's eyes drifted toward Anjali, who'd been—wisely—quiet and reserved since yesterday's stunning revelation of her betrayal. I didn't need access to his thoughts through the pack mind to guess what he as thinking.

"I agree," I called, raising my voice to carry to everyone in our group. "Information is power, and this is one piece of news we don't need to share with the Volturi."

The group fell into silence as we ran. I knew Renesmee and Bella would rather be with Jake right now. They had stayed with us because Bella needed proximity to effectively shield Anjali and me from the probing power of Joham's lackey—the mind-molester and would-be rapist, Remy.

_One more thing to feel guilty about_, I thought miserably. Jake was in this mess—with mangled hands and feet, and venom-soaked wounds in his side—because of me. If he died … alone, without his mate and his best friend beside him … it would be my fault.

I choked back a sob and buried my cold nose against the lusciously warm, sweet-smelling skin of Nahuel's throat. I hoped the thunder of my pack brothers' paws pounding full-tilt over the hard-packed snow would drown out the faint sound of my remorse.

Of course, my imprint heard me clearly.

"Do not take this burden on yourself, ñi piuque," he murmured, as if he had read my thoughts. "You are not to blame for Jacob's injuries. My sire is the villain in all this."

His understanding, his tenderness—his fucking unconditional love—wrecked me.

"It _is_ my fault."

I clutched the collar of his shirt and drew it over my face so the others in our madly running group wouldn't see me crying like a shamed child. "If I'd just listened to him … if I'd waited like he wanted … Jake wouldn't be in this mess."

"It is possible Jacob would not have been injured, but also highly probable that I would be dead," he chided. "Perhaps that outcome would have been more desirable to you."

Hormones instantly whip-shot my mood from weepy and guilt-ridden to glaring and pissed. My head snapped back and I glowered at him. "Of course not, you ass," I growled. "How could you even think that?"

He smiled at me as if I'd just solved the mysteries of the universe, as if I hadn't just insulted him. The raw heat of his beautiful smile stole my breath. It always did. What the hell was he grinning about?

Understanding poked me, like the intrusive touch of an overly handsy uncle at a birthday party you hadn't wanted anyone to throw you in the first place. The wolf bitch chortled approvingly.

Nahuel had just served me a dose of my own medicine, challenging my self-pity and self-loathing with an outrageous accusation. I'd done the same thing to him not that long ago, when I'd confronted him in the bushes behind that fucking barn and asked if he wanted to leave me, if he'd fallen out of love with me.

_Well played, vamp-boy._

He acknowledged my recognition of his ploy. "It is unpleasant to have the one you love intentionally misinterpret, is it not?"

I shook my head in grudging respect. "I said those things to you because I was trying to make a point, Nahuel."

"As am I," he countered, effortlessly sustaining his end of our conversation, as if carrying me while running flat out was no burden at all. "Continuing to reproach yourself for anything that has happened is both counter-productive and wrong-headed. You did what was necessary. Jacob would have done the same, and he will no doubt tell you that as soon as he is able."

Emotion clogged my throat. "What if he never gets the chance?" I could barely force my voice out around the beach-ball sized lump in my throat. "If that really is venom in his wounds … he may never get the chance to forgive me."

"You are overly worried. Carlisle will set Jacob's hands and feet to rights, and his werewolf healing ability will rid his body of the venom." He chuckled wryly. "At worst, it will change him into something truly unique!"

I gaped at him, appalled by his apparent nonchalance. He raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Have I said something offensive?"

Realization ripped into me. He didn't know. Why would he? I'd intentionally never brought up the fact that vampire venom was fatal to wolves because I didn't want to freak him out. Apparently, no one else had mentioned it to him, either.

My gut sank. I needed to tell him now, even though I really didn't want to start him thinking about all the ways he could consider himself dangerous to me. I was pretty sure he'd see this as one more thing for him to loathe about himself.

"Jake can't heal from venom," I said quietly, carefully watching his beautiful face. The wind whipped around us, roaring loudly as Nahuel continued to run. I almost hoped he wouldn't catch my whisper, that the wind would shred my words to an insignificant hiss of sound. Of course, he heard me clearly—again.

Confusion drew his dark brows into a worried frown. "I do not understand."

I sucked in a shuddering breath, steeling myself for his reaction. "Vampire venom is fatal to werewolves. It can't change us, and our bodies can't process it like other toxins."

Sheer horror swept over his flawless features. His eyes widened and his trembling lips fell open. Understanding crystallized painfully in his glorious eyes, and I knew he was processing not only the import this news had for Jake, but also for us.

His breath faltered into shallow pants. He looked so stunned, so utterly sickened by my revelation that I was sure he'd have stopped stock still, dropped me and puked his guts out in that moment if we hadn't been running for Jake's life.

"Every time I kiss you … every time I put my mouth on your body … I risk your life?" His voice rattled in his chest like dry, dead leaves skittering over frozen ground.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Bella glance at us. Of course she—and everyone else—overheard our conversation and Nahuel's horrified reaction. Without any signal passing between them that I could detect, the vampires subtly spread out, moving away from us but remaining in eyeshot. It wasn't real privacy, but it was the best they could do under the circumstances. I'd take it.

"You are in danger every time we lay together, yet you kept this from me," he accused, anger and something even darker and more desolate overlaying the distress in his voice.

I could see where he was heading. We'd had enough angst and drama in the past few days to last us for eternity; no way was I about to let him heap more on our already-steaming pile. I shut him down.

"No," I rapped, firmly and forcefully. "Unless you've decided you'd rather make a meal of me than make me your wife, I have nothing to worry about. You are less dangerous to me than any other vampire in the world."

In the two months he'd been in Forks, Nahuel had learned a lot about his own biology thanks to Carlisle. We now knew that while venom was present at all times in the mouths of full vampires, Nahuel's venom functioned more like snake venom. Glands at the back of his mouth produced and stored his venom, like a human's salivary glands made spit. Nahuel's venom wasn't always present in his saliva; feeding triggered the release. I knew without a doubt that Nahuel had never for a moment considered me a food source, so there'd never been a time when I was in danger of coming in contact with his venom.

I grasped his chin in my cold fingers, forcing him to look at me. I willed him to see my total trust and acceptance.

"I know you would never hurt me, Nahuel. Don't even think about worrying over this. It's a non-issue. Put it out of your mind. Permanently."

He swallowed hard, his strong jaw clenched tight against his angst. He struggled for a moment, wrestling with his desire to believe me and the habit of self-loathing he'd lived with for more than a century. He looked away for several moments, never breaking the rhythm or speed of his lope. Finally, he looked back at me with fresh resolve simmering in his eyes.

"I cannot promise that I will be able to overlook this easily, but I will pledge to try … if you will agree to stop blaming yourself for Jacob's injuries."

_Oh, he's good …_

He knew I would do anything for him—even turn my back on what I knew to be true. Even though he was wrong and it _was_ my fault that Jake was hurt, Nahuel was right that my obsessing over the fact wouldn't benefit anyone. And if swallowing my guilt over Jake would convince my imprint to let this new worry of his go … well, it would be one less thing on his mind when I finally did tell him the secret I was most afraid of sharing with him.

"Deal," I murmured, pressing my lips to the corner of his mouth to seal the agreement.

Truthfully, neither one of us would be able to let go of all our issues so easily. We'd both carried them for too long. But for now, at least, it looked like we'd successfully negotiated a cease-fire on two important points.

Nahuel said no more, and simply turned his attention to the brightening horizon, so I counted myself lucky—and kept my damn mouth shut.

SSW/SSW/SSW

No one likes to realize they're a bigot, but in the past few months I'd had to admit to myself that's exactly what I was. Carlisle and his family—and their unfailing kindness and acceptance—had forced me to rethink all I'd ever believed about the nature of vampires. Accepting that I needed to adjust my world view to encompass the reality of "good" vampires had been a disturbing, humbling experience.

Still, despite all the changes Nahuel and the past two months had brought to my life, deep down, I would always be bitchy Leah. That part of me was perversely, secretly smug to think that the Volturi reaffirmed my dislike of vampires in general.

Jane, Alec, Felix and Demetri were exactly the kind of evil, blood-thirsty leeches that I–and all my race–was born to hate.

I wasn't sure what it said about my priorities, but I remembered the Volturi guard far more clearly than Nahuel or his aunt after that initial encounter six years ago. I'd hated them on sight, and on principle. After meeting them a second time in the cavernous great room of the Denali coven's sprawling mansion—it made the Cullen house look like a shanty—I was pretty convinced my hatred was totally justified.

Edward and Emmett had reached Denali with Jake just an hour or so before us. Carlisle, Rosalie and the Volturi were already there. By the time we arrived, Carlisle was treating Jake, with Edward and Rosalie's help. Renesmee and Bella wasted no time going off to find them. I'd wanted to go too, but figured I'd probably just be in the way. Besides, if we were going to successfully negotiate with the Volturi for their help, Seth would need my support.

Carmen, the most human-seeming of the Denali vamps, ushered our group deep into the great room of the Denali house. The place made me think of pictures I'd seen of turn-of-the-century mountain resorts—all dark natural woods, evergreen accents and rustic reds. The furniture was an eclectic mix of lush leathers and plaid upholstery. Tanya, Eleazar and the Volturi were waiting for us.

"Please make yourselves at home," Tanya invited. "Carlisle wished me to tell you that your friend is doing well."

Relief weakened my knees, and I sunk down onto the first seat I could find—a deep, feather-soft leather recliner. I was the only one in our group who sat, but I just couldn't care. I was exhausted and tense. I barely listened as Jasper and Seth began to negotiate with the Volturi for their help.

Wisely, Seth had ordered the rest of the pack to stay outside, patrolling the perimeter of the compound. My little brother knew it would be a really bad idea to have a wolf as hotheaded as Paul in the same room with unrepentant bloodsuckers. He'd have a difficult time restraining himself, even knowing we needed the Volturi guard's help.

Although I'd met every one of the Denali coven members at one point or another over the past six years, I couldn't say I was as comfortable with them as I felt with the Cullens. Still, they were a hell of a lot more personable than the Volturi.

After just five minutes of interaction with the leeches, I was wishing I could have stayed outside, too. I felt a killing urge that would have made Paul proud. My burbling kettle of ire hit whistle point when the Volturi tracker hedged about helping us.

"Unfortunately, I simply can't be of much use to you," Demetri sighed dramatically, not even bothering to conceal the condescension in his voice. His smirk made it clear that he regretted the situation about as much as I'd have regretted putting my fist through his smug, sparkly face.

I was already on edge over being in the same room with so many freaking vampires—even though more than half of them were "vegetarians" that I knew. How long before one of them noticed a quiet little heartbeat whispering beneath the thunder of mine? Before one of them noticed a subtle shift in my scent? I could only think I'd been lucky so far—or that my pregnancy wasn't advanced enough—that none of the Cullens had yet noticed anything different about me. This was not a venue where I wanted my secret outed for all to see, but surrounded by so many supernaturally sensitive creatures, wasn't it just a matter of time?

My nerves made my mouth-to-brain filter even less reliable than usual, and my brittle anger shot out of my mouth before I took a moment to think. It didn't help that Nahuel wasn't beside me; he stood by a heavy-draped window on the opposite side of the room from where I sat. We looked less _together_, but the physical separation from my imprint wasn't doing much to calm my already raw-nerves. I also wasn't happy about the fact that Tanya—the stunningly beautiful and unattached leader of the Denali coven—had chosen a seat that put her closer to Nahuel than anyone else in the room.

"What the fuck do you mean?" I snarled at Demetri. "You're the whole point of this little get-together. We need a tracker who can help us find Joham. What's your problem?"

Across the room, Alec hissed like a leaking gas line and Felix took a threatening step forward. Jane halted them both with a flick of her tiny fingers.

"You would do well to moderate your language, shape-shifter." She delivered her warning flatly, in a mild tone that belied the tension radiating off her fellow guard members. "We expect a basic level of respect, even from less evolved species such as yours."

I ground my teeth. Briefly, I fantasized about phasing and teaching the Bride of Chucky a thing or two about respect. Like a small child craving its security blanket, I found myself wishing Jake were there. And that thought slammed another wave of guilt and fear through me. Why the hell hadn't someone come yet to give us an update on how he was doing?

Before my next eye-blink, Jasper was between Jane and me—which was pretty fucking odd. From the corner of my eye, I saw Emmett watching us with a raised eyebrow. Jasper had helped me out when I was hurt, but we'd never had what you'd call a close relationship. Why was he taking such a protective stance now? Of course, there was no way I could question him about it—not now, and maybe not ever.

"Her delivery might be lacking in diplomacy, but Leah's point is valid," he drawled. "Since we share a common goal, we'd hoped Demetri would be able to help us locate Joham."

His words floated gently on a cushion of calm, and behind Jane, the other guard members visibly relaxed.

Jane, however, regarded Jasper with the impassive stare of a viper debating with itself whether striking the puny prey in front of it was worth the expenditure of energy it would cost. Clearly, she was aware he was trying to manipulate her emotions. The fact that she didn't feel threatened by it said a lot about her confidence. Jasper was bad-ass, but without Bella present to shield him, Jane could probably drop him like a ton of bricks.

"Demetri can't track someone he's never met," she said dully. "The Volturi did extend an invitation to the renegade to meet, but since he declined, Demetri has never had the opportunity to make the personal connection necessary to facilitate his tracking ability."

My ears had been ringing for hours, ever since Edward had said he thought there was venom in Jake's wounds. Now, the ringing had crescendoed to a cacophony, and I wasn't sure which stunning revelation was responsible: the news that Demetri couldn't track Joham, or that the Volturi had attempted any kind of cordial contact with Nahuel's batshit-crazy sperm donor.

"I don't understand," Tanya interjected carefully. "Why did you contact Joham? How?"

"Aro's reasons are his own," Jane said, her reptilian little eyes shifting to the leader of the Denali coven. "I don't question him, nor should you. As for how … a messenger was sent."

Tanya arched an icy eyebrow. "What was Joham's response?"

"He returned the messenger to Volterra in pieces." A small smirk tugged at the corner of Jane's pert little mouth. "It was not difficult to interpret his meaning."

I wasn't sure which was worse: Joham's chosen method of communication, or the fact that Jane found it amusing. What could you say to that kind of sickness?

Apparently, not much, since Jasper and Tanya both slipped into that unsettling stillness that overtakes vampires when they're actually not sure what to do or say next. I figured they were both trying to think of how to salvage this situation, to get something out of the Volturi's presence besides angina—if vampires even got angina.

I kept my mouth shut for the second time that day. I had nothing, and the present company was just too sharp—and too friggin' dangerous—for me to pretend otherwise. I watched Jasper and Tanya process things, watched Emmett and Seth watch the Volturi, and watched the Volturi make a show of not caring that they were being scrutinized.

I fought the urge to cover my stomach with my hands, and wished like hell I could be close enough to Nahuel to touch him. I was afraid to even look at him, sure if I did that Jane's beady little eyes would see far more than we wanted.

If my eyes _had_ been on him, I would have seen the unmistakable signs of my imprint scheming, because Nahuel never spoke without thinking first. But I wasn't looking at him. The fact that he spoke at all was almost as flabbergasting as what he said.

"Let Demetri follow me."

Every vampire in the room took a full second to grasp his meaning, but I understood before the last syllable left his mouth. A crazed sound, somewhere between a hysterical giggle and a horrified gasp, slipped through my lips, and I was on my feet, crowding Jasper, before I even realized I was moving.

_Superior mental capacity, my ass._

Once it started beating again, my heart ripped loose from its mooring behind my end of that fucking invisible cable and tumbled toward my toes. It ricocheted off my stomach and clipped my uterus on its way down. Frigid liquid terror gushed through the crevasse it gouged in its wake. Carlisle's herbal supplements be damned—the nausea was back in full force.

"No!"

"Capital idea!"

My shouted protest crossed and clashed with Demetri's pleased exclamation.

Nahuel's gaze shifted calculatingly among the Volturi guard. He pointedly did not look at me, and continued speaking as if he hadn't heard me at all.

"My sire wants me," he said, his voice steady, calm and reasonable, as if he were suggesting nothing more dangerous than an afternoon fishing trip with dear old undead Dad. "All that is required is that I make myself available to him. He will find me. I will do whatever is necessary to stay at his side. Demetri need only track me, and I will lead him to Joham."

Demetri nodded enthusiastically and clapped his hands together, eyes alight with the glee of a little boy who's just been told he can have a cookie before dinner. Behind him, Felix and Alec smiled appreciatively.

My eyes tracked to Jane, who was wearing the same bland, bored expression she always displayed. Yet something in the set of her ruby eyes was … satisfied. Somehow, I just knew that the Volturi had orchestrated this. Nahuel might think he'd come up with this idea on his own, but the lousy leeches had herded him toward it.

_It's all a game to them. Just a fucking game._

Seth stood silently, slack-jawed, his eyes flitting from Nahuel to the Volturi to me and then back to my imprint. Jasper and Tanya seemed every bit as speechless as Seth. Trust Emmett, however, to _not_ be at a loss for words.

"Dude!" he crowed. "You want us to use you as bait? That is fucked up. It could work, but still … it's fucked up."

Jasper was still standing in front of me and, without thinking, I sank my fingers into the back of his shirt, trying to drag him out of my way. He glanced over his shoulder, astonished that I'd voluntarily touched him. Whatever he saw on my face quickly drove the surprise from his, and his golden eyes narrowed. He shook his head minutely, and I felt calm waft over me.

I understood what he was doing; he feared I was on the verge of losing it—and I was. He thought I was about to say something that would reveal to the Volturi the depth of my connection to Nahuel, and Jasper wanted to protect me from the ramifications of that revelation. I understood his concern, and he was probably even right. But in that moment, I didn't care.

"Stop it," I hissed, glaring at him.

Purposefully, I stepped around him and marched across the room. It was a huge fucking room and Nahuel was on the far side of it, but it still took me only seconds to reach him. When I stopped in front of him, so close my tits were all but rubbing against his chest, he finally met my gaze.

The candy-ass, imprint-whipped school girl wanted to back down at the fear and pleading in his soulful eyes. He was begging me silently not to expose us—not to expose myself—to the Volturi. The wolf-bitch didn't give two shits about the leeches at the moment, and she brutally squelched the urge to relent.

"You are not going anywhere," I snarled. "I won't allow it."

I'd said those same words to him before, behind my father's shed on the day he attacked Charlie. Then, he'd been relieved and grateful to hear them, but not now. No, now he looked furious. Cords of muscle rose in tense lines down the length of his throat, and his teak eyes hardened and chilled.

"Who are you to forbid me to do as I wish, werewolf?"

My mouth dropped open. That gut-punched feeling that only Nahuel could give me slammed the breath from my lungs. I couldn't process the sheer disbelief his truculent tone washed over me. I gaped at him, stunned.

Something melted in the amber ice of his eyes. It was the only change in his angry facade, and it was so slight that anyone else would have missed it. But in that second I knew.

_He's not pissed at me for telling him no. He's angry that I just gave us away to the Volturi, and he's trying to keep up the pretense. Tough shit._

"Cut the crap, Nahuel," I snapped. "You're a shitty liar and I'm not fooled. I'm not about to stand by while you talk about using yourself as bait to catch your psycho father, and if that means cluing the creepy quartet …" I chucked a thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the Volturi. "… into the fact that you're my mate, so be it."

I lowered my voice and stepped even closer. "You're mine and I'm yours," I whispered, throwing back at him the very words he'd used on me in my kitchen what felt like a thousand years ago. "I won't allow you to do this."

Behind me I heard a soft, feminine gasp. Had I actually managed to surprise the cosmically jaded Jane? Score one for me.

Nahuel heard the gasp, too, and winced almost imperceptibly. At my back, I could feel four sets of curious red eyes scorching through my shirt, burning into my skin. I resisted the urge to turn around and glare at them.

Indecision danced in the depths of Nahuel's eyes. Three seconds. Four. Five.

Finally, he expelled a weary sigh and shook his head.

"Be reasonable, beloved," he pleaded. "We have lived beneath the edge of this blade long enough. I want to begin our life together free of this fear. It is time to end Joham. This is our best chance to find him."

"Risking your life is not a chance I'm willing to take," I countered. "We'll find another way."

"Far be it from me to come between such an … interesting … mated pair, but I really must agree with the half-breed," Demetri called from behind me. "This is an excellent plan. Allowing Joham to reclaim something he desires, and then using his own greed against him, will make it very easy to locate and eliminate him."

I turned my head just enough to be able to see the tracker from the corner of my eye. "I didn't ask your opinion, bloodsucker," I snarled. "Stay the fuck out of this."

"Careful, wolf-bitch," Alec interjected. "Your entertainment value is waning."

Noiselessly, Jasper flashed across the room into my line of vision.

"Leah, we can't afford to reject this idea out of hand," he murmured gently.

"What?" I gasped. I turned to face him fully, gaping in outrage. As if he didn't trust me not to lunge at Jasper, Nahuel slipped an arm around my waist from behind.

"Well, it's not like we wouldn't know where Nahuel was the whole time," Emmett argued. "Edward could keep tabs on him while we followed with Demetri. And it's a pretty safe bet that Joham's not going to kill Nahuel, seeing as how he figures into the whole breeding plan thing."

"What the fuck?" I raged. "If Carlisle or Jake were in this room right now, this conversation would already be over! They'd never allow this."

Nahuel's warm fingers gently grasped my chin and nudged my face toward his. He turned me in his arms, and angled our bodies so that his back was now to the room, blocking my view of our audience. If it weren't for the overpowering stench of vampire, I could almost allow myself to believe we really were alone. His beautiful face dominated my attention.

"Carlisle and Jacob would both say that it is not their place to dictate my choices," he whispered, tenderly brushing his fingers down my cheek. "But I am yours, ñi piuque, and so it _is_ your right to share in this decision."

He drew a shuddering breath and gathered me close, pressing his lips just below my ear. His voice was so low, and so soft that I thought even our supernaturally powered audience would have difficulty hearing him.

"I wish to do this thing." His breath barely stirred the air. "I will feel less a coward, and we will be free of this threat. But if you ask me _not_ to do this, I will stay."

Maybe if he'd been mine for longer, or if I hadn't been pregnant and scared shitless of facing motherhood alone, I might have been able to give him what he so clearly wanted. But not even the imprinting compulsion could overpower my terror at the thought of losing him. I didn't hesitate. I flung my arms around his neck and buried my face against him, my lips brushing over the solitaire nestled in the opening of his collar.

"Please don't do this."

The muscles in his shoulders tensed and the strain rippled across his back. For a moment, he said nothing, and I wondered wildly if he'd actually thought I might give in. Then, he softly sighed beneath my ear, gave me a gentle squeeze, released me and stepped back. He partially turned to face Jasper, and beyond him, Demetri.

"My apologies, my friends. We will need to think of alternatives."

The silence stretched and strained. Demetri studied Nahuel and me, then flicked his gaze to Jane, wordlessly questioning.

"Interesting," she muttered. "Aro will find this development most interesting."

There was no missing her implied threat, but I was too relieved to care. Nahuel wouldn't be risking himself as bait for his deranged daddy, and I wouldn't be stuck here, alone, unable to phase and help him. Whatever happened next, at least we would face it together.

"Well, that is that," Jane continued. "I see no reason to prolong our presence here. Alec, please contact Gianna and have her arrange our travel back to Volterra."

"Wait!" Tanya protested. "Aren't you even going to consider alternatives?"

"None exist," Jane said mildly. "As I said, Demetri cannot track someone he has never met. If the halfling is unwilling to function as a lodestone, the matter is ended. Aro will be disappointed."

Anjali had been silent and half-hidden in a corner behind Seth throughout the entire tableau. I'd almost forgotten she was there. Apparently, so had everyone else; every vampire in the room startled when she spoke quietly and confidently.

"Nahuel is not the only hybrid Father wants to recapture."

Seth's big body went rigid and his eyes shot to mine. His left shoulder dipped oh-so-slightly, and I knew he was fighting the urge to turn and face his imprint. It must have taken tremendous willpower, but he didn't move, didn't indicate in any way that he cared at all what Anjali was getting at.

Demetri erupted into pleased chuckles and clapped his hands again. "Of course! The female halfling. Joham must have been most displeased to lose her. She can be our …" he glanced at Emmett. "… how did you put it? Oh yes, 'bait.' " He pirouetted gracefully to face Jane.

"Now why didn't we think of that?"

I'd have been more than happy to personally shove Anjali's lying ass into Joham's waiting arms, but the pain and fear in my brother's eyes destroyed me. I knew he was struggling with himself, feeling cornered by circumstances. If he said nothing, Anjali would put herself at risk, and Seth's beautiful soul would die if something happened to her. If he spoke up, he'd alert the Volturi to his connection to her, and possibly draw even more unwanted attention.

The Volturi already knew, now, about Nahuel and me, and though I hated the bitch with the intensity of a thousand burning suns, Anjali was still Seth's imprint. Still Nahuel's sister. I had to do something. I pushed around Nahuel and glared at Anjali.

"You ditched your father," I sneered, tapping my rage at her to get just the right infusion of disdain into my voice. "He won't want you back. You'll be useless as bait."

Seth's eyes were huge and moist, and if any of the Volturi had been looking at him in that second, the gratitude on his face would have totally given him away.

Anjali stepped forward into the weak morning light that had begun to trickle in through the heavily draped windows. She looked like hell—almost as bad as Nahuel had looked when he'd first arrived in Forks months ago—and I knew it was because Seth was still angry at her. She was feeling the pull of the imprinting as strongly as he did, and their emotional isolation from each other was painful for both of them.

She passed Seth without any acknowledgement of his presence, and halted in the middle of the room. Her pale hazel eyes were empty and impassive.

"He will want me back," she said tonelessly.

"And why is that?" Jane sounded only mildly curious.

"I have something he desires very much for his breeding program," Anjali replied.

When she said nothing more, Demitri huffed, exasperated like an impatient child. "Really, dear girl, the suspense is too much. Out with it, if you please. What is it that you have?"

Her eyes scanned the room, taking in every member of the Volturi guard, the Denali coven and the Cullens—all hanging by their collective short hairs to hear her explanation.

And still, she hadn't looked at Seth. Not once.

"A proven track record."

_What the fuck does that mean? Does that mean she has …._

"A child. I have a child."

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><p><em><strong>End note:<strong> Yes, I did it again. I can hear it now "Viv, you cliffie bitch!" So, fair warning, a lot of the remaining chapters are going to have WTF danglers (and no, I'm not talking about Nahuel's or Jake's manly bits). Not only is that how I roll, but the story is going to pick up pace so much that there will be no avoiding cliffies. Thanks for sticking around!_


	35. One More Heartache

_**A/N:**__ I really have nothing to say for myself today. So, the usual adoration and appreciation for my betas, Evelyn-Shaye and Munkee-Rajah, and all that copyright stuff about Stephenie Meyer._

* * *

><p>Chapter 35 – One More Heartache<p>

**Leah POV**

Seven years ago, when Sam first told me he'd imprinted on my cousin, I thought there would be no way I'd survive that pain. Even now, with time and my own imprinting dulling the heartbreak of that moment, I remembered in excruciating detail every agonizing nuance of hearing the man I loved tell me he belonged body and soul to another woman. In my self-involved misery, I'd thought at the time that no one in the history of the world ever had—or ever would—experience a betrayal to top that.

I was so fucking wrong.

As gut-wrenchingly, soul-shatteringly awful as my experience had felt at the time, now it seemed to me like nothing more than a sparkly grain of sand compared to the coal-black mountain of treachery that Anjali had just dropped on my baby brother.

_A child … a child … I have a child._

Not "I'm pregnant."

_I HAVE a child._

When had she had it? Where was it now? Who was the father?

One hundred percent guaranteed it wasn't Seth's, since Anjali clearly hadn't been pregnant in the short time they'd known each other. One hundred and ten percent certain from the shattered look on his face that he hadn't known about it. At all.

How many more times could this bitch rip Seth's heart out?

You could have heard a fly fart in the silence that crept over the room. It was the morbid, anticipatory stillness that fills a hospital waiting room when everyone looks up at the grim-faced doctor standing in the door. Except instead of a sick relative, the deceased was Seth's hopes and dreams for a happy future with his imprint.

Everyone loved Seth. Every one of us—Emmett, Jasper, Nahuel, even the Denalis—was bleeding inside for my brother. Yet we couldn't show it, because the last thing he needed on top of everything else was for the Volturi to realize that he and Anjali were also an imprinted pair. It was that compulsion to protect Seth in the last way possible that kept me from dismembering Demetri when he profaned the silence by tittering like a cheerleader who'd just discovered the quarterback's hand up her skirt.

"Well now, that is most interesting!" he chortled merrily. He turned to Jane again. "I am so very glad we came here. This is the most entertainment we've had in quite some time. Perhaps we should invite Aro to join us for the fun!"

I ground my teeth and focused my willpower on staying still. If I moved, I was going to phase and shred someone—the Volturi tracker or Seth's evil little imprint, I wasn't sure which. I kept my eyes glued on my brother, watching helplessly while the train wreck of his life unfolded before me.

Jane pursed her blood-tinted lips and studied Anjali with narrowed eyes. "Curiouser and curiouser," she murmured. "So many questions come to mind. For example, where is this offspring? And who … or what … is its sire?"

Seth wasn't breathing. I was pretty sure of that, and it scared the hell out of me. Even more terrifying was the wildness in his eyes. He was going to lose it at any second, and I had no idea what to do to protect him. Thankfully, Jasper's brain hadn't shut down like mine.

"Seth, would you do me a favor, buddy?"

My brother's eyes twitched spastically for a few seconds before settling on Jasper. "Yeah?" His voice was dry and hollow, with all the strength of a feather floating to the ground.

"Would you go check on Jake?" Jasper was projecting for all he was worth, but not the calm and tranquility I'd have expected. What I felt wafting past me toward Seth was wave after wave of numbness.

Tactician that he was, Jasper undoubtedly had loads of questions for Anjali—Jane sure did—but he knew Seth wouldn't be able to bear hearing the answers just now. Seth needed to shut down completely and get the hell away from the situation—or he'd unintentionally out himself and his imprint just as I had done. If he'd felt calm, my brother would have insisted on staying. But with his emotions numbed, he had no will to resist Jasper's polite request.

"Sure, Jazz," he replied placidly.

Carmen stepped to his side and gently cupped his elbow. "I'll show you the way," she murmured in her heavy Latin accent. Anjali didn't turn to watch them go as Carmen led Seth from the room.

The exchange took all of ten seconds, so it was hopefully short enough not to raise the suspicions of the Volturi—all of whom seemed too intrigued by Anjali's revelation to pay attention to one more odd werewolf. All four of them had moved to surround Nahuel's sister, and they weren't being the least bit subtle about it. Apparently, my imprint didn't like the implied threat of their positioning, because before I could register that he'd moved at all, he was beside Anjali.

"You do not need to tell them anything or promise to aid them in any way," Nahuel said, his voice low and steady. I envied his calm in the face of chaos, and marveled at the strange workings of his mind. How was it that the idea of my being "allergic" to his venom could plunge him into an emotional free fall, but hearing he was an uncle barely caused a ripple?

Anjali studied him calmly for a moment before tentatively raising her hand and gently, awkwardly, patting him on the shoulder. "You are a good brother, Nahuel," she replied. "I appreciate all you've done to try to help me. But it's time for the truth. I think this is … the right thing."

Tired and barren, her pale eyes wandered past the circle of Volturi to Jasper. "I'm just not sure where to begin."

It was probably a combination of nerves and hormones, but I needed to sit down. I unceremoniously dropped my rump into the chair I'd sat in when we first entered the room. I thought Anjali looked like she needed to sit down, too, and I shocked the hell out of myself with my unexpected compassion for a woman who'd just destroyed my brother's life—again. Without consciously making the decision to speak, I heard myself piping up.

"For starters, why don't you sit before you fall down," I barked.

Nahuel and Anjali both favored me with matching expressions of surprise. I nodded toward the other end of the couch where Tanya still perched. Nahuel blinked at me, then took his sister by the arm and led her to the couch.

When she was seated, he crossed the room, parked his very fine ass on the arm of my chair, and rested his hand behind me on the back of the seat. His pose was both possessive and comforting, and while I appreciated the reassurance of his closeness, I thought his protectiveness was probably unnecessary. The Volturi were way past any interest in us; they were focused on milking every last gory drop of detail from Anjali.

She remained silent, her brow furrowed in deep thought, her eyes staring vacantly straight ahead. When it became clear she was lost somewhere far away, Jasper coughed subtly to draw her attention. "Anjali, perhaps you should just begin wherever you're comfortable," he suggested gently.

Her eyes blinked slowly and refocused, resting on Jasper. I wondered just how much fine tuning of emotions he was doing right now, and how broad his abilities were. Could he simultaneously project calm to Anjali and patience toward the Volturi? I couldn't see Jane sparing much more time for Anjali to get her story out, and wished—for the first time in my life—that Edward were here to just pull the information from her head.

"When I reached maturity, Father began looking for ways to incorporate me into his breeding program," Anjali began.

Beside me, Nahuel shifted uncomfortably. I could guess what he was thinking: that he could have easily ended up like Anjali, if not for the protection of his dead aunt. Or maybe he was as appalled as I was over how clinically and coolly his sister spoke of what amounted to sexual slavery.

"Unfortunately, it was very difficult to locate male vampires capable of the level of self-control required to achieve consummation."

Of course. Anjali had a heartbeat and blood, like a human. What red-blood-drinking vamp wouldn't prefer to sink his teeth into her rather than his dick? Where would Joham find a vampire more interested in fucking than feeding?

I could think of only two answers to that question, and I wasn't sure which option was more revolting. Clearly, Joham was capable of that level of self-control; the evidence was sitting on the chair beside me and the couch opposite us. The other answer was something only I knew, because I'd been the only awake, alert person in that goddam barn with the mind-molester.

_Oh God …._

"When Father found Remy …"

_I knew it. I fucking knew it. _

"… he had the idea to allow Remy to practice his control on humans. Although they were more fragile, they were also expendable and easily replaced within the breeding plan."

"_I got experience with you fragile types …"_

"After some months of practice, Remy was able to successfully impregnate a human woman without killing her."

"_I can control myself just fine … I know just what to do …."_

Anjali was still speaking, but I could barely hear her calm, cold voice over the roaring rush of blood surging in my ears.

"We were successful on our first try, and my daughter was born six weeks later. She marked her first birthday shortly before we followed Nahuel to Forks."

"Obviously, you were better able to tolerate the pregnancy than a human woman," Jane observed.

"Yes," Anjali agreed, her beautiful face carefully blank. "Because I am half vampire, my body was perfectly compatible with a three-quarter vampire fetus. My daughter was delivered in the normal, human fashion."

A tiny part of me was relieved to hear that Anjali's delivery had been easy, because maybe that meant I'd be lucky, too. But that part was sinking fast beneath the overwhelming horror of hearing that fucking evil, wanna-be rapist vamp had procreated. Worse, that he'd done it with my brother's imprint.

Bile brewed in my gut and heaved up my throat. I clapped my hand over my mouth and swallowed hard. Glad I hadn't eaten much in the past several hours, I bent forward at the waist and put my head between my knees. I drew short, shallow breaths through my nose before forcefully expelling the air through my mouth.

"Ñi piuque?" Nahuel's lush voice was deep with alarm, and I felt his arm slip around my shaking shoulders.

"What is wrong with the shape-shifter?" Annoyance, mixed with a dash of curiosity, tinged Jane's high, shrill voice. "Is it sick?"

One of the other vampires—Jasper? Emmett? I couldn't tell—responded in that sub-vocalized way vamps use when they want to speak quickly. When they want to keep whatever they're saying hidden from human listeners. Probably explaining who the hell Remy was—and why his name had me freaking out—in a way that they hoped wouldn't send me any further over the edge.

_You need to get your shit together!_ the wolf-bitch growled.

"I'm alright," I gasped, wrapping my arms around my knees and dropping my forehead onto them. "I just need a sec."

This was why Anjali had remained silent about the brain-rapist's talents. This was what … who … she'd been protecting. This—the desire to protect her child, and the fear of what her child's father and her own might do if she betrayed them—was probably the only thing that could make her voluntarily risk hurting Seth. This was the only excuse that could … possibly, maybe … be at least understandable, even if it wasn't actually forgivable.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I wheezed into my arms. _I want them dead. Joham. Remy. I want to kill them so fucking badly._

I felt Nahuel slide off the chair to kneel in front of me, enveloping me in his comforting warmth and scent. His long fingers stroked through my hair, and his sweet breath caressed my ear.

He whispered reassuringly: "We will be free of this, my heart. I promise."

"Halfling," Jane called, her voice clearly dismissing my little scene. "Continue with your explanation. Where is your offspring now?"

"She is with my father."

"Anjali …" Jasper interrupted. "Just how many mixed children does Joham have in his possession right now?"

She was silent for a moment, as if debating with herself whether to admit what she knew.

"Five. My daughter and four half-human females. Two of the half breeds are Father's and two are Remy's."

For the first time since we'd arrived in Denali, emotion crept into Anjali's flat voice. Her tone—fraught with anxiety and helplessness—drew my head out of my arms. I stared at her over Nahuel's shoulder.

She sat primly on the couch, feet side-by-side and flat on the floor, knees chastely locked together. Only her voice and the whiteness of the olive skin stretched over her tightly clenched fists, gave away her emotions. She stared at her own hands, as if some explanation for the fucked-upedness of all this might be written in the wrinkles of her knuckles.

The shit just kept getting deeper. Joham and Remy had murdered four other women, and created a veritable coven of half-breeds. After we'd dealt with Joham, what the fuck were we going to do with all those half-vamp children? No way would the Volturi just walk away from something that … "interesting."

"That is assuming, of course, he hasn't slain my child as punishment for my abandonment," Anjali murmured. "She has value to his breeding program, of course. And I don't think Remy would appreciate it if Father did kill her, but they can both be unpredictable when they are angry."

I swallowed another wave of nausea. I didn't know whether to detest her for lying to Seth and concealing all this from him … or for abandoning her child in order to be with my brother. I understood the power of the imprinting bond—of course I did—but I still couldn't imagine choosing my imprint over my child. What's more, I was certain Seth would never have asked Anjali to choose, if she'd told him the truth. He would have found a way to help her rescue her daughter from Joham.

Whatever her reasons for all the hurt she'd inflicted on my brother, Anjali was still an an evil whore, I decided. And I was a judgmental bitch. And Seth was still going to be devastated by all this.

"Fuck," Emmett whispered succinctly.

His voice seemed to break Anjali's reverie, and she finally lifted her eyes, shifting her gaze from Emmett to Jasper before settling on Nahuel and me.

"This is why I volunteered to be bait," she said, her voice gathering strength. "If she is alive, I want to take her from Father. If she is dead, I want to avenge her. If she still lives, and I fail, perhaps Father will kill me and leave her unharmed. And if she is already dead …"

She hesitated and her eyes wandered toward the doorway where Seth had left the room minutes ago. "… then I have no reason to live, either."

Jane snorted. "How touching."

"Really, dear girl, your motivations don't concern us at all," Demetri explained, his voice still lilting and revoltingly cheerful. "We don't care about any progeny that may have already resulted from your sire's breeding program."

_Liar! Fucking bloodsucking liar!_ The wolf-bitch howled silently. I didn't believe for a minute that the Volturi were here to help us out of the goodness of their cold, dead hearts. Aro wanted to get his hands on a half-vamp or two. I was sure of that.

"Joham is our priority. All that's required is that you lead us to him."

"I can do that," Anjali said firmly, steadily holding my gaze.

I still hated her, even if I did understand her a bit better now, but I owed it to Seth to at least try to protect her by derailing this plan.

"So what? You think you'll just walk out the front door and your batshit crazy father will be there waiting for you?" I challenged harshly. "He got what he wanted out of you. He's got your daughter. What makes you think he'll care where you are now?"

Anjali studied me silently for a moment, clearly at a loss to understand why I wasn't already ushering her out the door. "I will return to the barn and wait there. Once Bella is no longer shielding me, Remy will be able to see where I am. They will come for me."

She glanced to her brother, who was still kneeling in front of me, obviously shaken by my mini freak-out. "Father is not done with me," she muttered. "He was planning to breed me again. After he'd recaptured Nahuel."

Only someone unaware of how truly insane Joham was would miss the implication of that statement. Sadly for me, I was totally clued in to the way the evil fucker's mind worked. The barest hint of my imprint in any kind of sexual situation with his half-sister churned my unsettled stomach all over again. I groaned and rubbed my hand over my dry lips.

"I need to see Jake," I muttered. "I really fucking need to see Jake."

Although I hadn't been addressing anyone in particular, Jasper responded to my whining. "He's going to be fine. Carlisle is done with him." For a stupefied second, I wondered how he knew Jake's condition, but then I heard the light rap of vampire footsteps approaching in the hallway.

Rosalie stepped into the room. "You heard," she said to Jasper.

He nodded. "Yes. I'm assuming you did, too."

The look Rosalie threw in Anjali's direction should have, by all rights, incinerated the little bitch where she sat. "Yes. Edward, Carlisle and I all heard, but someone will need to fill in Jacob and Seth."

She slid her cold stare to me. "Jacob's awake, and he's asking to see you."

"Jake's really okay?" I asked with as much civility as I could ever muster for Bloodsucker Barbie. We'd never be buds, but she was earning some points right now for her obvious desire to beat the ever-living shit out of Anjali.

Her flinty gaze softened a bit. "Yes, he's really fine. Apparently, it will take a lot more than some broken bones, scratches and a few traces of venom to put down the big dog."

I felt a surge of relief so intense it burned my eyes. I had no idea how Carlisle had gotten the venom out of Jake's system, and I didn't even care. All that mattered was that he would be alright.

I sighed and climbed clumsily to my feet. Nahuel rose fluidly and gracefully beside me, his big, warm hands ghosting repeatedly over my arms, shoulders and back. Touching me was always Nahuel's tell; he was more disturbed by the past hour than he cared to admit and needed the comfort of physical contact with me.

Without really looking at her, I snapped at Anjali over my shoulder.

"Stay put until we can discuss all this with Jake and Carlisle. No one should go anywhere until the entire group is on board with this bait idea." And by "the entire group," of course, I really meant Seth. I hoped the trollop was sharp enough to realize that without me having to spell it out.

"Of course," she whispered, her eyes once again fixated on her clenched fingers.

I started to move toward the door, but I was forced to stop short when Nahuel, who was gripping my hand tightly, didn't move with me. I turned to him questioningly, but his eyes were trained on his sister. My breath caught at the contemplative expression on his face. What was he thinking? His lush lips parted slightly.

"What is her name?"

Anjali blinked in surprise for a few seconds. A shy smile crept across her ashen face.

"Aliah," she murmured, her voice reverent and worshipful, as if she were sharing with her brother a life-altering, private secret.

What did it say that I was the only real human—or at least the closest thing to human—in the room, the only other mother (though no one else knew that), and I hadn't thought to ask the kid's name?

_Yeah, you're going to be a great mother_, the wolf-bitch snarked.

SSW/SSW/SSW

Bad news is like bad chili. It burns like hell going down, you know it's going to tear up your guts later, reheating it doesn't make it one damn bit more palatable, and it's sickening no matter how you serve it up. Regurgitating for Jake and Seth all that had gone down with Anjali felt exactly like trying to digest badly made five-alarm. Not even the soothing reality of Jake's rapid and steady recovery could ease the burn.

By the time I was done talking, I'd realized there was only one small advantage to my being the bearer of this particular bit of distasteful information: it was easier for Seth to get it from me, someone he loved and trusted, than to have to hear it straight from the mouth of his duplicitous imprint.

I watched my baby brother process the shitty news that the woman he loved not only had a child with another man ... uh, being … but that she'd callously abandoned that child and made one bad, deceptive decision after another. Jake, propped up in bed with bandages on his hands and feet, couldn't seem to lift his jaw out of his lap. Seated beside him on the bed, Renesmee was, for once, completely beyond words. Seth's normally open, happy face wore an expression of resigned isolation. Nahuel was so traumatized that he was all but glued to my ass.

And I was floundering in a welter of hormone-hyped emotions that made me want to scream and laugh, cry and curse, hug Seth, kiss Nahuel, beat the crap out of Anjali for lying to my brother, and punch Jake in the nuts again for scaring everyone.

Mostly, though, I just wanted to take a nap. I was exhausted, physically and emotionally.

So was Seth, and it echoed pathetically in his voice.

"What should I do, Jake?"

His pleading tone reminded me of how lost and desperate he'd sounded the one and only time he'd gotten into real trouble at school. Seth and a friend had argued, things had escalated to a fist-fight, and for some reason, the principal came down harder on Seth's buddy than on my brother. Seth got suspended, but the other kid got expelled. Seth had felt like it was his fault—it had been—and he'd begged my father to tell him how to fix things. Jake's answer now was much the same as my father's had been.

"You do whatever it takes to make this better," he said, gently and kindly. His voice was raspy and weak, but I knew in just a few more hours, the strong, assured Jake that we all depended on would be back in action. "You talk to her."

Seth's dark eyes clung desperately to our Alpha. "I want to," he whispered. "But if I do, the Volturi …"

"Fuck the Volturi," Jake cut him off. "Don't even worry about them. We'll deal with them if we have to. Do what you need to do to get through this together."

When the hell had Jake become the Dr. Phil of the supernatural set?

Nahuel cleared his throat. "Do you agree with the plan to bait my sire?"

Jake sighed and glanced at Renesmee, who was sitting on the edge of his bed. "It's a decent plan," he hedged.

"But …" I prompted.

He shook his head. "I wouldn't want my imprint doing it." He met Seth's eyes. "But I'd also know she'd need to make such an important decision herself, with all my support and none of my over-protective bullshit."

Not what I was hoping he'd say. Probably not what Seth was hoping for, either.

I was acutely aware of Nahuel's stiff silence beside me. There was no missing the fact that I had not done for him what Jake was saying he would have done—what Seth should do. I'd shamelessly forced Nahuel to submit to my will and refused him the right to decide for himself whether or not he'd be bait for his father.

"Talk to her, man," Jake urged gently after a few moments.

Seth nodded and turned toward the door. "Thanks, Jake. I'm really glad you're okay."

Jake grinned like a male model in a toothpaste ad. "Me, too, kid." Then, more seriously, "It will be okay Seth. You're not alone, and we'll make everything okay together."

Unshed tears glistened in my brother's eyes. He said nothing more, only nodded and closed the door quietly behind him.

Jake turned his attention to me.

"So, I think you owe me an apology," he challenged.

He only meant to bust my chops. I knew that. But instead of the snide comment that I should have tossed back at him, my hormone-soaked brain veered off in a different direction. I felt my chin quiver humiliatingly for several seconds, and then I burst into stupid, heaving sobs. Jake's innocuous jibe had ripped out the tiny, dried-out cork that had been plugging the widening hole in my emotional dam.

Jake looked like I'd pinched his testicles.

I knew what was wrong with me, even if no one else did, but that didn't make it any easier to get myself under control.

After enduring just a few stupefied seconds of my sloppy sobbing, Nahuel wrapped me protectively in his arms and glared at my Alpha.

"She has been torturing herself with remorse and worry," he growled accusingly, his big, warm hands stroking almost frantically over my back and shoulders. "I will not tolerate you punishing her further for doing something that you also would have done had you been in her position."

Jake raised his bandaged hands placatingly.

"Whoa! Ease up, man. I was kidding." He peered at me worriedly. "You do know I was kidding, right, Leah?"

I sniffled, sucked in a snorting breath and used the hem of my T-shirt to wipe my nose and eyes—which wasn't an easy move to make, considering Nahuel was holding me so tightly I could barely lift my arms. I forced myself to respond in a more typically Leah-like fashion.

"Yeah, yeah, asshole, I know you didn't mean anything by it," I sniped weakly. "I'm just dealing with a lot of shit right now. I really am sorry for punching you in the 'nads, but I _won't_ apologize for going after Nahuel. I really had no choice."

Jake swallowed hard and, without looking at her, clutched Renesmee's hand in his. "I know that now," he said softly, earnestly. "I understand now …" he glanced up at his imprint. "… more than I ever did before."

_Huh. Something's up with those two. Do I want to know what? _

_Nah. Probably not._

"I was wrong to try to stop you," Jake continued, his dark eyes settling on Nahuel. "And I'm really sorry you were hurt, man."

Nahuel tipped his head in acknowledgement, but said nothing. I could forgive Jake easily, but it looked like my imprint was still miffed that my Alpha had made me cry. Part of me wished I could tell him to get used to the tears and emotional whiplash, because we were probably in for six more months of it. Soon, I promised myself.

"So we're good?" I asked brusquely.

He chuckled before favoring me with the kind of grin a frat boy would give the buddy who's just offered him a hit off the communal blunt. "We're good. And as soon as Carlisle says you can start phasing again, we'll get you back into the pack."

A soft knock drew our attention seconds before the door opened. Carlisle stepped into the room.

"Pardon my interruption, but I thought you might want to know the Volturi have gone hunting."

There was no good response to that statement, and we all knew it. It meant four innocent humans—at least four—were going to die. But it also meant we'd have a modicum of privacy for a little while.

"They've agreed to hunt far outside the Denali's home area, so they'll be away from the house for a few hours," Carlisle continued meaningfully. "Seth is taking the opportunity to speak privately with Anjali."

His golden eyes cut to me. "Leah, I think now would be a good time for a follow-up exam."

I nodded and sucked on my lower lip, wondering how I'd convince Nahuel to give me some privacy with Carlisle, but the doc took care of the situation for me.

"Nahuel, the rest of the family and the Denalis are discussing strategy, and Jasper has asked that you join them."

Nahuel was still fondling me like a businessman squeezing a stress ball, and I knew it was as much for my comfort as his. He lowered his long-lashed eyes and contemplated his shoes for a moment, before looking at me questioningly.

"I'm okay, baby," I murmured encouragingly. "Really. Go talk with the others. I'll join you in a little while."

He smiled slightly and, before I could protest or move, swooped in, kissed me with a loud smack full on the lips and disappeared out the door.

Jake had the balls to actually snicker. I rounded on him, annoyed.

"One word out of you, Black, and I'll finish the job that venomous half-vamp started," I threatened.

That earned me an outright guffaw from Jake and pleasant chuckles from Renesmee and Carlisle. Which made me think of something I hadn't thought to ask earlier because I'd been distracted by the whole Seth-Anjali drama.

"Was that venom in your wounds?"

Jake smirked, leaned back against the headboard and slipped his bandaged hands behind his head.

"Yeah, it was."

He sounded inordinately pleased to be the only wolf in living memory to survive vampire venom.

"Shit," I breathed. "That means Nahuel's not the only venomous half-vampire. There could be even more than him and the one you killed."

Jake nodded wordlessly, letting the full import of that realization sink into my brain without comment. The reality of how close we'd all come to losing him burned away my ire. I felt hot moisture surge behind my eyes again and swallowed down the emotion—before anyone saw it, I hoped.

I glanced at Carlisle. "Thanks, doc. For whatever you did to save him."

An odd sequence of emotion played across Carlisle's elegant features—surprise that I'd thanked him, followed quickly by what looked like embarrassment. It piqued my curiosity.

"What did you do?" I asked. "To get rid of the venom?"

Carlisle's vague embarrassment gelled to obvious chagrin, and his eyes darted to Jake for help.

"You don't want to know," my Alpha said sheepishly.

What the hell? They were _both_ embarrassed?

"Okay …" I replied, drawing out the word questioningly.

Jake sighed, wrinkled his nose, and scrubbed one bandaged hand through his shaggy hair. "Let's just say the experience sucked."

_Oh? Oh! Ewwww …._

"For both of us," Carlisle agreed.


	36. Mass Production

_**A/N:** Since my last author's note was so short, I've got a bit more to say this time around. As always, my lovely, super-speedy betas Munkeerajah and Evelyn-Shaye worked their magic on this chapter. I love them even more than a tall, iced peppermint mocha on a hot day! Season of the She Wolf has been nominated for a She Wolf award (thanks Camilla10 and Munkeerajah). These awards are a bonanza for Leah lovers, so check out the nominees at http: /shewolfawards (dot) blogspot (dot) .com/._

_Everything Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyers.  
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><p>Chapter 36 – Mass Production<p>

**Leah POV**

Hearing my baby's heartbeat again was probably the only thing that could raise me above the shit storm whirling around me. As soon as that precious pulsation drummed – steady, strong and powerful – through the earbuds Carlisle had somehow rigged to his portable Doppler, the Volturi, Anjali, Joham, the mind-rapist Remy … they all fell away beneath me. That incredible, beautiful sound lifted me up into clear, bright atmosphere, until all my problems seemed tiny and insignificant and far below.

_Tha-thump! Tha-thump! Tha-thump!_

I cupped my left hand over the bud in that ear and used my right to scrub at my damp eyes. Freaking vampire thought of _everything_, and I could have kissed him for coming up with a way to let me hear that heartbeat while still protecting my secret – even though he disagreed with me about keeping it.

After leaving Jake, Carlisle had led me to one of the numerous rooms in the Denali mansion—a bedroom so luxurious that it made the one I'd stayed in while recuperating in the Cullen house look like an overused dorm room. Kneeling on the floor beside the bed where I reclined, Carlisle seemed totally unfazed by my runaway emotions. I silently mouthed "thank you" at him. He grinned, bobbed his head in acceptance and turned off the Doppler.

"Enough?" he murmured kindly, swabbing the gel off my stomach with a moist towelette. Honestly, what vampire carries towelettes? A Cullen, of course.

"Yeah," I grunted, sitting up and quickly reaching for our trusty pad and pen.

Even though Carlisle had said all the bedrooms in the Denali mansion were sound-proofed—and I _so_ did not want to know _why_—I wasn't taking any chances on being overhead. Hearing the heartbeat again was awesome, but it reminded me of something I'd been meaning to ask him.

_How come no one's caught on?_

We were getting super-efficient at this form of communication. Carlisle had taken to reading my messages backwards and upside-down as I wrote, so the pen hadn't even finished moving when he raised his eyebrows at me questioningly. I clarified.

_Why hasn't anyone heard the heartbeat? Why haven't YOU heard it? Why don't I smell different? _

Carlisle slid gracefully from the floor onto the couch beside me, produced a second pen from his pocket and jotted his answer on the tablet still braced on my knees.

_**I don't know. I've noticed this, too, and I've been considering possible explanations.**_

When he paused, I waved my hand, palm up and fingers curled, in a "gimme" gesture.

_**It's possible the fetus is not yet large enough for its heartbeat to be audible, although this seems unlikely. Or perhaps the amniotic sack and uterine lining have vampiric qualities that shield the fetus, as was the case with Bella's pregnancy.**_

I nibbled my lower lip and considered this for a moment.

_But I'm right? In theory, a vampire should be able to hear the heartbeat by now and smell the changes in my body. _

Carlisle frowned slightly, his perfectly molded lips quirking down.

_**Yes. Additional tests may yield an explanation, but those will not be possible until we're back in Forks.**_

For now, the bun in my oven was hidden; my body wasn't betraying my secret. But how much longer would that last? Even if the heartbeat remained inaudible and my scent didn't change, my waistline was going to start growing – and probably sooner, rather than later. What did that give me? Weeks? Days?

There was no way to know.

_**Both Jasper's and Edward's gifts might provide some insight.**_

I shook my head vehemently. I understood what he was getting at. Maybe if they knew they were looking for something, Edward might pick up a stray thought or Jasper might tune in to some emotion – although I suspected the baby was still too little for its tiny brain to generate anything either vamp would be able to sense. But I just couldn't bring anyone else into this before I told Nahuel. I wasn't _that_ much of a thoughtless bitch.

"Leah …" Carlisle breathed on a soft sigh. For him, it was the equivalent of all-out-exasperated, shouting, hair-pulling frustration.

"I know, I know." I grumbled.

_I promise I will tell him soon, _I scribbled hastily.

"When?" Carlisle challenged, eyebrows drawn into a skeptical scowl. I fought the urge to sock him right in his perfectly straight, aristocratic nose.

_He's heelll-ping you_, the wolf bitch reminded in a mocking sing-song.

_Before we leave Denali_, I promised recklessly_. Before we head out to track Joham._

_**That is likely some time tomorrow morning.**_

Cold dread burst in my chest like the explosion of a snowball slamming into a brick wall. It dribbled down my arms and made my fingers spasm. The pen snapped.

Carlisle's hands flashed so quickly, I barely had time to register his movement. He snatched the leaking pen away and cleaned my fingers of all traces of ink before it had time to stain my skin. I stared in befuddlement for a few seconds at the fresh, unbroken pen that had magically appeared in my hand before scribbling an answer I hoped would satisfy him.

_Okay. I'll tell him tonight. Can you ensure we have some privacy? _

Relief bloomed in Carlisle's golden eyes and he didn't even attempt to hide it from me. "I'll do my best," he murmured. "I'm glad you've made this decision, Leah." He hesitated for a moment before holding his hand out for the pen.

_**For what it's worth, I wanted to thank you.**_

Puzzled, I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders, not sure what he meant. Was he thanking me for my piss-poor part in finding Jake and Renesmee?

Seeing my confusion, he continued writing.

_**As a vampire, my very nature is rooted in death. My existence springs from it. I've never blamed your tribe for distrusting us because of this. It means a great deal to me that you are allowing me to be a part of something so life-affirming. I am profoundly honored and grateful.**_

Once again, I was ashamed of myself that a vampire could be more thoughtful than a human. Thanks to Carlisle, I was healthy, my baby was healthy and I wasn't alone.

Jake and Renesmee had been kidnapped because of me. I'd failed to protect my brother from his viperous imprint. And I was on the verge of fucking up my relationship with Nahuel because I'd lied to him horrifically and repeatedly. My score of doing well by those I loved was pretty shitty right now, but here was one thing I knew I could do right.

It was as easy as opening my mouth.

Looking my vampire doctor in the eye, I spoke clearly and strongly. I wanted him to understand that I didn't care _at all_ who might overhear.

"Carlisle, _I'm_ grateful. Thank you for taking care of me, and for being my friend."

Surprise flitted over his handsome face for a heartbeat, before his perfect lips settled into a pleased smile.

The moment required no more words, and we both recognized it, so neither of us spoke.

_Not bad_, the wolf-bitch offered grudgingly. _Maybe there's hope for you yet._

SSW/SSW/SSW

Could hate make your eyeballs melt?

I thought mine might sizzle and seep out of my head when I stepped into the main room of the Denali house where everyone had gathered to discuss strategy. The betraying little half-breed bitch was perched on my baby brother's lap like she had a right to be there. Like she hadn't ripped his guts out and pissed on the entrails—twice in the past two days.

I didn't know what they'd said to each other since I last saw them, but obviously Seth and Anjali had reached some kind of understanding. She was snuggled up against his broad chest, her face tilted up toward his. Her hazel eyes shimmered with the kind of worshipful devotion an earthquake victim might lavish on the man who pulled her from beneath a crumbled skyscraper.

Seth seemed peaceful, and I was at least grateful for that. He was rubbing one hand up and down her back absently while he listened to the conversation between Jasper, Emmett and Tanya. Still, he was letting Anjali off too easily if he'd forgiven her already, and that angry resentment must have been plastered all over my face. When Seth's eyes met mine, he blanched whiter than an Ivy League law prof. I immediately felt like shit for making _him_ feel badly, and the pro-me warm fuzzies I'd been savoring since the scene with Carlisle evaporated in a big stinky puff.

The room was full of pulse-challenged people and my shirtless, shoeless pack brothers, although the hunting Volturi hadn't yet returned from murdering innocent humans. The low buzz of the vamps' sub-vocal conversations rumbled against my breastbone ominously. No one else noticed the silent exchange between my brother and me – except, of course, Nahuel.

My imprint rose gracefully from the couch where he'd been sitting beside Carmen and prowled smoothly across the room toward me. My breath caught, and a warm, liquid tingle—totally inappropriate, given the circumstances and current company—spread through my nether regions. I admired the powerful roll of his hips, and the stretch and flash of his long legs.

Fuck, I had it bad, and I promised myself then and there to have my way with Nahuel one more time, upstairs in one of those decadently luxurious bedrooms, before I told him my secret. I was dreading his freak-out, and the sexual drought I was pretty sure would follow. Knowing Nahuel, he would probably be so angry that I'd lied to him, and so utterly terrified for my safety, that he'd refuse to touch me for months—regardless of the fact that the "damage" was already done.

By the time he reached me, my vamp-boy was totally bewildered by the rapid shift of emotions he saw on my face: anger to remorse to lust to resolve. He stood so close that his luscious warmth caressed the entire length of my body. Tentatively, he took my hand in his.

"What is wrong?" he murmured, his teak eyes full of confusion and concern. "What did Carlisle say? Are you unwell?"

I chuckled. "I'm fine, baby," I reassured him. "Really great."

I drew a lusty breath of his intoxicating scent, feeling unaccountably brave all of a sudden.

_I can do this_, I thought_. I can tell him and make everything alright._ Maybe I could lay the groundwork with a few simple words right now.

"I'll tell you all about the exam later when we're alone. It's all good. Really good."

He smiled at me sweetly, trustingly, and my heart did a double-inverted backflip. Not because that tender curl of his lips reminded me how much I loved him, but because it said again that _he_ loved _me_. It still amazed me. Likely it always would.

It was probably inconsiderate of me to be so overt about my happiness when my own brother was dealing with a wildly unsettled love-life, but I couldn't help myself. Totally not giving a shit that we had a significant audience, I used the hand Nahuel still held to pull him against me and pressed a lingering kiss to his full, irresistible lips.

My display startled him for a second, but my imprint was never one to pass up an opportunity, and he recovered quickly. He released my hand and curled his fingers over my hip. Sliding the other hand up the column of my neck, his long, warm fingers cradled my cheek, and he returned my kiss enthusiastically.

Of course, there was no way we were getting away with this performance without someone in the room having something to say about it.

"Get a room, why don't you?" Paul hooted. His obnoxious laughter separated my imprint and me as effectively as a bucket of cold water.

To my amazement, Emmett thumped him upside the head. "Why don't _you_ get some new lines, dude, and leave Nahuel and Leah alone?"

Paul continued to snicker, as if his vampire counter-part hadn't just slugged him hard enough to make his skull pop.

"I hate to break up the party, but could we get down to serious business before the Volturi get back?"

Jake's deep voice carried over my shoulder, and I twisted in Nahuel's arms to peer at my Alpha standing in the doorway behind us. He was pale – for him – and his hands were still bandaged, but he was moving under his own power. Renesmee stood beside him, with Edward and Bella slightly behind, but none of them were supporting him.

Except for Seth and me, none of the pack had seen Jake since we'd arrived in Denali. They descended on him like starved hounds spotting a discarded doughnut. Embry and Quil locked him in a four-armed bear hug while Paul pounded Jake's back relentlessly. I didn't need the pack link to know what they were thinking and feeling.

After a few seconds of awkward man-hugging, the quartet seemed to realize they had an audience and broke apart. All four looked as if they'd just been caught in an embrace more passionate than the one Nahuel and I had just shared.

"Uh … thanks, guys," Jake fumbled. "I can't phase just yet …" he held up his bandaged hands. "… so I'm gonna need a verbal report."

"Right, right, right," Paul hastily agreed. "Yeah, I called Billy and Rach to let them know you were okay." His eyes narrowed and shot to me, and disapproval edged into his voice. "Called Sue, too, since Billy said she hadn't heard from Leah or Seth."

"Crap," Seth muttered, shifting uneasily in his seat. His gaze slid guiltily away from Anjali before lifting to meet Paul's. "Thanks, Paul. I didn't even think—"

"S'okay, buddy," Paul interrupted, turning an accusing glare on me while still addressing Seth. "_You've_ had a lot on your mind."

_Oh, and I didn't? _

Apparently, Paul thought I should have called my mom and filled her in on how her baby boy was getting his heart shredded by the woman he loved. I wouldn't have wanted to have that conversation with her, even if I'd thought of calling her. It was Seth's place to tell her what was going on with him and his imprint—not mine. And that thought made me wonder just what Paul _had_ told Mom, since it wasn't _his_ place to comment on Seth's love life, either.

I opened my mouth to call him on it, but before I could speak, Carlisle took command of the conversation.

"The past few days have been very difficult for everyone," Carlisle said soothingly, stepping into the room behind Edward and Bella. "We will all feel better once we have a firm plan of action. We should conclude our planning before the Volturi return."

Tanya stepped forward. "Agreed," she said. "Rather than allow the Volturi to decide how this campaign will proceed, we should present them with a completed plan that they only need follow."

"Jane's not particularly good at following someone else's lead, unless it's Aro's," Jasper interjected, pulling his cell phone from his pocket and hitting the speed dial. "Maybe Alice can see how she'll react to whatever plan we come up with."

He put the phone on speaker setting, and it rang only once before Alice's irritatingly cheerful, chiming voice filled the room. "Hi, Jazz."

He probably wasn't even aware of it, but at the sound of his wife's voice, Jasper's stance relaxed slightly. "Hi, darlin'. We're about to make a plan here, and we're hoping you'll be able to clue in on how Jane will react to it. Can you do that for us?"

"Plan away," she urged, eagerly. "Once the decision is made, I'll focus on Jane's reaction to it."

I didn't know Alice that well—any better than I knew Jasper, really—but Jake had told me how incredibly frustrated she'd been these past few months. She was used to helping guide and protect the Cullens with her visions, and not being able to see clearly around the hybrids and wolves had left her feeling helpless and useless. Now, because Jasper was asking her to focus on full vampires, she was apparently hoping she could be useful again.

"Hi, Alice," Bella called out. "How are Charlie and Sue?" She glanced at me shyly. Of course, it hadn't even occurred to me to ask how my mom and Bella's father were doing.

"They're fine, Bella. Esme and I are watching them closely, and Sam's pack is doing a great job patrolling Forks and the rez. Don't worry about things here."

Seth cleared his throat. "Well, I guess I …" his eyes flickered to Anjali before sliding away almost guiltily. "… I mean … _we_ … should start by telling everyone what we want to do."

I bit my tongue to hold back the gagging sensation that was inching up the back of my throat. The thought of Seth and Anjali still being a "we" sickened me—as stupid as that was, since they had no more choice about being together than any other imprinted pair. Even though they held a renewed calm, Anjali's eyes were rimmed in red and cupped by dark half-moons beneath; she looked like she'd been crying for hours—maybe days.

_She ought to cry_. _If she cries for a million years, it still won't be enough to make up for what she did to Seth._

When she spoke, Anjali's voice was low and whispery. "Tomorrow morning, I will leave the Denali compound. Once I have passed from Bella's shield, Demetri will follow."

Seth looked to Jacob. "Jake, I'd like the pack to go, too. Follow behind Demetri, if the Volturi will let us. I know I'm asking a lot—"

"You don't even need to ask," Jake interrupted mildly. "By tomorrow morning, I'll be back to a hundred percent." His gaze shifted between Carlisle and Tanya. "Are the Cullens and Denalis in this, too?"

Tanya spoke for them both. "Of course. We protect our family."

Gratitude shone in Seth's dark eyes. Jake strode across the room and dropped to his haunches beside Seth's chair.

"Carlisle and I will take point dealing with the Volturi," he said. "I know it's going to be tough, but I want you to hang back as much as possible, Seth. Let's not do anything to make them even more curious about the relationships between our pack and hybrid vamps."

Seth nodded, and his gaze slid away from Jake to settle on Anjali's hands, which were wrapped around one of his, where it rested on her lap. Something about the tiny lines that formed in the corner of Seth's eyes put me on edge. It wasn't like my brother to hold back his thoughts, especially not from Jake, but the feeling crept over me that there was something more Seth wasn't saying.

"I think we need to reassess our priorities," Rosalie spoke, surprising me. Usually her contribution to any discussion was limited to snide comments, eye rolls or stony silence.

Jake shifted slightly to peer at her over his shoulder. "Meaning?"

"Meaning there's more at stake now than just killing Joham." Rosalie bobbed her chin toward Anjali. "She …" and somehow Blondie infused the word with a galaxy of disdain, "… says there are five children involved. Getting them away from Joham should be our top priority now. Killing him is second."

My stomach clenched, and I felt Nahuel stiffen beside me. He'd spent a hundred years believing himself unique—_alone_. Now, in just a few hours, he'd discovered he had a niece and two infant half-sisters. I had no idea how he was managing to hold up under the avalanche of shocks that kept crashing down on him. How would he handle the biggest one? The one that I'd promised the doc that I'd drop tonight?

"Rose is right," Carlisle said, interrupting my introspection. "We must have a plan in place for managing those children, as well. Or the Volturi will manage them for us."

Bella shuddered visibly and reached for Edward's hand.

"No way," she said, her voice determined. "We cannot let the Volturi have those children." Her eyes roamed the room, brushing over each member of her family before settling lovingly on Renesmee. "This family has raised a hybrid baby before. We can do it again."

She turned toward Jasper, who still held his cell phone with the line open to Alice listening in Forks.

"Alice, can you see anything about how the Volturi will react to the hybrid children?"

"No," Alice replied. "I can see Jane accepting the first part of the plan—to let Demetri track Anjali and have everyone follow them. But once the hybrids and wolves are involved, I just can't see beyond that. I'm sorry."

"It's alright, Alice," Carlisle said. "We appreciate that you're doing your best." He turned to Jasper. "What do you suggest our course of action should be once we've located Joham and his coven?"

Jasper studied Anjali and Seth for a moment, before answering Carlisle. "We should split into teams," he said. "One team will focus on securing and extracting the children, the other will go after Joham. Obviously, Anjali should be part of the retrieval team; the children will know her. The wolves may frighten them, so let's keep the pack on extermination duties."

Seth cringed. "I'd feel better if there could be at least one wolf with the retrieval team."

Jasper wavered, clearly wanting to do whatever he could to ease Seth's mind.

Jake jumped in. "Maybe one of the smaller pack members—"

_Shit. That would be me. _

Beau was the youngest, and hadn't yet reached full maturity, so he was smaller than the other guys. Even so, he was way bigger than me. I still thought that my smaller wolf form would likely scare the crap out of children who were almost certainly already traumatized. But one look in Seth's pleading, frightened eyes, and there was no way I could refuse.

"I'll go," I said, carefully avoiding a promise to phase. After all, I reasoned, if I stayed on two feet, I'd be no more exposed or at risk than Anjali was. And if push came to shove and I _had_ to phase … well, I'd do whatever was necessary to protect those kids, as well as my own. None of them deserved to grow up under Joham's evil thumb.

Jasper mulled my agreement for a moment before nodding his acceptance. "That's settled. Who else?"

"I'm in," Rosalie said. Of course. I remembered Jake saying Blondie was all about the babies. Would she be less of a bitch to me when my pregnancy was finally public knowledge?

"Okay," Jasper agreed. "We need at least two more. Bella? Edward?"

They both nodded.

"I think I should also go with the retrieval team in case any of the children need medical attention," Carlisle added, managing not to look at me. We both knew my possible need for care was as much an incentive for Carlisle as the kids were.

"Agreed." Jasper scanned the room. "Anyone else?"

"I go where Leah goes," Nahuel announced in a tone that clearly said he wouldn't debate the matter.

Although I would have hated to be separated from him, I wasn't particularly thrilled at the idea of my imprint following me into his father's clutches. Of course, I should have realized that wherever I was, my vamp-boy would be close behind. The determination in Nahuel's quiet voice jolted me, reminding me uncomfortably just how utterly psychotic he was about the idea of me risking my life.

"Fair enough," Jasper agreed. "The rest of us will go after Joham. Now let's discuss how we'll handle the Volturi—"

My tired brain tuned out. As important as this conversation was, my mind kept zeroing in on another one—even more important—that Nahuel and I needed to have tonight. Preferably in private, and definitely before the Volturi returned.

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><p><em><strong>End Note:<strong> So this chapter turned out to be a bit of a house-keeping chappie. It was originally going to be about 1,500 words longer, but that 1,500 turned into 2,500 turned into 3,500, so I had to split it into two. The downside of that was this chapter was a bit more sedate than I'd originally planned. The upside is that it means Chapter 37 is already done, and it's nice and citrusy. If you would like a preview of 37, review 36 or send me a PM if you're shy about speaking in public. Next chapter will be up early next week - if not sooner._


	37. Lust for Life

_**A/N:** You've all been very patient waiting for this chapter, even though I teased you all mercilessly at the end of the last one. Many asked if this would be THE chapter, where Leah reveals her secret. All I'm going to say is you'll either thank me or want to kill me - possibly both - at the end of this one!_

_Evelyn-Shaye and MunkeeRajah helped put the tang in this citrusy chapter. I love them more than sand between my toes, free time and a good smut novel! Stephenie Meyer still owns all things Twilight.  
><em>

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><p>Chapter 37 – Lust for Life<p>

**Leah POV**

My eyes snapped open, and my body jerked as I caught myself teetering on the tempting edge of slumber—yet again.

_Not gonna fall asleep. Not gonna fall asleep. Not gonna fall asleep._

_Then get your ass out of this bed,_ the wolf bitch griped.

I hadn't planned on lying down on the incredibly luxurious bed. Or, more accurately, I hadn't planned on being _alone_ in the bed.

When the strategy meeting had broken up for the night, Carmen had shown Nahuel and me to one of the awesomely decadent bedrooms in the Denali mansion. I'd taken one look at the king-sized bed that dominated the center of the room and couldn't get Carmen back out the door quickly enough.

If she'd thought me rude, she'd given no indication. She had probably been too busy thinking about how all hell would break loose tomorrow, when we would toss our enticing little hybrid bait into the wind to see if Joham would bite.

For me, the shit would hit the fan much sooner—tonight, immediately following the mind-blowing sex I intended to have with my imprint. Things would get very ugly very fast when I kept my promise to Carlisle and 'fessed up to vamp-boy about my pregnancy.

I'd pounced on Nahuel as soon as the door closed behind Carmen, and he'd responded with his usual enthusiasm. I'd been halfway through the buttons on his shirt when my stomach had growled—loudly and dramatically. Of course, he'd heard it, and his focus had immediately shifted.

"You are hungry," he'd accused, clearly critical of my ability to appropriately prioritize my human drives.

"You know it, baby," I'd agreed, running my tongue across the line of his collar bone and going to work on opening his jeans. "Food, later. You, _now_."

"Leah," he'd scolded. "Much as I wish to make love with you, I do not want to do so if you are in any way uncomfortable. You are still recovering from injury. Your body needs food to fuel the healing process."

"Screw the food. I need _you,_ baby."

Rather than argue further, he'd played me like a fiddle. He'd kissed me senseless while quickly and efficiently stripping me down to my underwear. Then, he'd maneuvered me onto my back on that incredible bed … and was opening the door before my tingling skin registered the absence of his heat against it.

"Rest," he'd commanded, smirking smugly at my surprise. "I will return shortly with food."

A second later, the door clicked shut behind him. I groaned, rolled onto my stomach, punched a pillow furiously in frustration … and promptly fell asleep.

I wasn't sure how long Nahuel had been gone, but I'd done the almost-asleep-jerk-awake thing about eight times while waiting for him. Of course, the sensible thing would have been to get off the bed and do something to stay awake. And I kept telling myself I _would_ do that. Soon.

On the ninth run through, I lost the battle and went completely under.

Something warm and wet and—_oh God!_—insistent teased me back to wakefulness. Nahuel's succulent lips trailed kisses over my nape, below my ear and along my jaw.

My eyes popped open. A plate filled with cheese cubes, strawberries and some cocktail-party crackers sat on the bed beside my head, directly in my line of vision. My stomach rumbled again at exactly the same moment that my brain registered Nahuel's hard, hot, _shirtless_ body stretched out on top of me.

Knees nudged between mine, he was braced on his forearms above me, his front to my back, pressing me gently into the mattress. His erection nestled along the crack of my ass, and I could feel him throbbing and hot through the denim of his jeans and the cotton of my panties.

Feast or fuck? Feast or fuck?

_Fuck!_

With a quick thrust of his pelvis against my ass, Nahuel easily halted my attempt to roll over beneath him. He plucked a cube of cheese from the plate and brought it to my lips.

"Eat, ñi piuque."

"Food later," I gasped against the comforter. "I want you. Now."

He chuckled against my cheek, and the caress of his breath made my nipples tighten.

"No need to rush," he whispered, low and sultry. His right hand popped the cheese between my lips. His left deftly unhooked the clasp of my bra. I groaned but chewed obediently. When he brought a berry to my mouth, I accepted it readily.

"I detest this contraption," he murmured, using both hands to drag the bra straps down over my shoulders to my elbows while I dutifully finished the fruit. Now my arms were tangled in the straps and effectively bound against my sides. With my arms restrained, I couldn't feed myself, but I also couldn't take control of the situation and wrestle him to where I wanted him.

Nahuel brought a cracker to my lips and patiently held it there while I took a bite.

"Why do you bother with such a thing?" he continued. "Your breasts are perfection. I could touch and taste them for eternity. If I were deprived of them for even a day, I think I would go mad."

His left hand snaked beneath our bodies, and his long fingers slid around my tit. He massaged firmly before gently pinching and rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"Goddamnit, Nahuel," I hissed. I was going to combust. "Just fuck me already. You're driving me crazy."

Another berry appeared in front of my mouth. I seized the fruit in my teeth and wrapped my lips around his fingers. I danced my tongue over his fingertips, sucking powerfully, trying to tell him without words what I had in mind for another part of his body.

"Ah-ah-aaahh …" he chastised, pulling his fingers from my mouth and releasing my breast. "If you stop eating, I will stop touching you. And I will not touch you again until you finish your meal.

"If you are _good_ …" His hands slid between our bodies, and suddenly, my panties were gone. "… there is no reason why you cannot enjoy your food and my touch at the same time."

Part of me was pissed at this game and wanted him to knock it off, flip me over and just fuck me. Another part was totally turned on by this harmless show of dominance. And deeper still, beneath the searing lust, a tiny voice whispered that maybe I owed this to him, because as soon as we were done making love, I was going to rip the proverbial rug out from under him by finally revealing his impending fatherhood. That reminder prompted me to open my mouth like a docile toddler when he brought another cube of cheese to my lips.

"That is good," he crooned, shifting his weight slightly above me to make room for the nimble fingers of his free hand to slip between my thighs. "So good. Such cooperation merits a reward."

One long finger traced lightly up the line of my crotch. My body bucked involuntarily, and I choked on the food in my mouth.

"Christ, baby—" I coughed.

The finger stilled, the tip pressing just enough to lightly part my slick folds.

"Are you in distress, my heart?" His smooth, deep voice oozed artificial concern. "Shall I stop?"

I swallowed the mouthful of cheese.

"Fuck no!" I arched my back—as much as I could manage with his weight still on me and my arms useless—and wiggled my ass, trying to coax that finger deeper.

"I'm fine. I'll eat. Just don't stop."

He chuckled hotly against the skin of my nape. Another berry appeared in front of my face. I took it. The finger slid further inside me, stroking down toward that button that he knew how to work so expertly.

I chewed without protest. Swallowed. The finger stroked tantalizingly around that magical nub. I was so wet that the motion of his finger was almost frictionless.

"More, please." I opened my mouth to show him I was willing to play his game as long as he kept those fingers moving. He tenderly placed a berry between my lips.

Now his thumb gently circled my sensitized bundle of nerves. The finger migrated down to slide fully inside me. I gasped and squirmed.

"You are so ready." Nahuel's breathing had become as heavy and uneven as mine. "Hurry and finish your meal, Leah, so that I can be inside you."

Idiot vamp-boy. "You can get inside me right now. Do it!"

He shook his head, nuzzling along my shoulder and up my neck until his lips settled again beneath my ear.

"No, ñi piuque. You are not to be trusted. If I take you now, you will forget all about food. I can wait."

I lifted my head to glare at him over my shoulder before slamming back down on the bed in frustration.

"_I_ can't wait," I moaned.

"I said nothing of making _you_ wait for satisfaction," he whispered, hastening the pace of that single finger that had been gliding slowly, torturously, in and out. A second joined it, and my body clenched around both digits. I cried out and gasped his name.

When he presented another berry, I shook my head. I could barely breathe I was wound so tightly. I wanted that coil of tension to release. Craved it. Needed it.

"I can't," I panted. "Please, baby. Please."

"Mmmmm," he hummed against my shoulder blade. "Perhaps a bit more incentive is required."

He pulled his fingers from my body, and I cried out in protest as his weight shifted off me. But he didn't leave me as he'd threatened. Instead, he began kissing down my back, licking over the curve of my ass cheek. And then his mouth was _there_, in that throbbing spot that he _owned_, that was still weeping over the loss of his fingers.

He pulled away for a heartbeat, and I heard his breath stutter. He was as turned on by this game as I was, and he mumbled something unintelligible against my soaking flesh. Then his tongue plunged into me, sweeping away my last shred of sanity, and all I could feel was the power of his possession.

He'd gone down on me before—so often, in fact, that I'd wondered if it wasn't his favorite pastime—but never like this. The new position left me completely at his mercy, and in no time at all, his brilliant tongue had twisted that tension even tighter, and I knew I was about to explode.

And just when I thought I couldn't possibly survive anything more, his fingers returned to assist in this rapturous torture. He thrust into me hard and fast, and the tension snapped. My back arched, my knees drove into the bed, lifting my ass even higher, and I screamed as my orgasm ripped through me.

Gasping for air, my body still vibrating like a Mustang with a busted engine mount, I surfaced slowly. Now I was so fucking satisfied, so exhausted, I didn't think I'd have any interest in more sex play, let alone food. But Nahuel was back on top of me, hovering another cube of cheese in front of my trembling lips.

"Oh gawwwddd," I moaned.

"Two more bites, my heart," he coaxed. I could smell myself on his breath, and amazingly, I felt renewed heat and moisture pool between my thighs. He ground his massive erection against my ass—a tacit promise of the reward that awaited me if I continued playing his game.

"One bite of cheese," he urged. "One strawberry. Perhaps another cracker. Then .…"

I snapped the cheese from his fingers so fast I startled him and got a nip of Nahuel along with the cheddar. He yanked his hand away and flicked his wrist repeatedly, trying to shake the sting out of his bitten fingers. As I chewed mechanically, his weight shifted on me again, and I heard the unmistakable hiss of a zipper descending.

Without a word, he brought the last berry to my lips. I accepted it more gently this time. As I ate, both his hands left me, and I felt him shimmy behind me. His jeans slithered to the floor beside the bed with a soft, sensual rustle. Now there was nothing between my aching, empty body and his hard, hot flesh except his determination … and a cracker. I accepted it greedily.

As I licked the last crumb from his fingertips, he sucked in a ragged breath. I arched my back again, and the slight shift in position brought his hard-on into perfect alignment with my body. He shoved the plate aside and levered up above me on his forearms. His groin and thighs cradled my ass, and his knees slipped outside mine to firmly press my legs together.

He dipped his head and brushed the shell of my ear with his tongue. "Shall I take you now?" He flexed his hips, and the movement pushed his erection deliciously against me. "Like this?"

I wanted to touch him so badly, but with my arms still restrained by my bra, all I could do was fist the soft comforter. The grip of his legs outside mine made it impossible for me to do anything more than squirm minutely.

"Any way you want, baby," I panted. "Anything. Just do it, please!"

I imagined he'd rise up on his palms and slam into me now; I could feel how aroused he was. It was etched in the taught muscles of his trembling forearms. Writ in the heat and hardness of his body arched above mine like a drawn bowstring.

But Nahuel never seemed to do quite what I expected. Instead of the animal rutting I was anticipating—craving—he slowly, gently lowered himself until I was surrounded by his powerful, muscular heat. One arm crept beneath me and crossed over my stomach until he captured one of my trapped hands in his. The other arm braced beside my head, and he burrowed his face into the curve of my neck.

"Inchepoyeneimi," he rasped against my sweat-slicked skin, and I had no clue what that meant, but the mere sound of his lust-ridden voice sent shivers of anticipation coursing through my limbs. "My heart. My life. My soul."

Carefully, tenderly, as if he were a supplicant entering a sacred place, he pressed his hips forward and slid inside me. The grip of his thighs outside mine made everything seem so much tighter and hotter and more intense. He began moving immediately, gliding gently, easily, in and out. He was in complete control of our bodies in this position. All I could do by way of active participation was to clench my inner muscles around him every time he withdrew.

His breath was heavy and uneven against my skin, but the plunge and retreat of his hips never faltered. Smoothly, steadily, his thrusts drove my excitement higher, until I could feel the unbelievable crest building again inside me.

He groaned into my neck, feeling the inner spasms that preceded my impending explosion. "Yesss," he hissed in anticipation. "Again. Let me feel it."

I knew what he wanted; he was utterly, unapologetically addicted to feeling me come while he was inside me. He loved it and—truth to tell—so did I. The orgasm he was driving me toward now would be earth-shattering for both of us.

"Oh, God, Nahuel," I whimpered.

He wrenched his hand from mine and pushed it lower under our joined bodies. His fingers delved into me, and he used his palm to lift my hips a fraction of an inch. His tempo hastened, and now his hardness scored against that spot deep inside me that only he had ever discovered. On his very next stroke, I detonated.

Shockwaves of paralyzing pleasure radiated through my body, pulsing outward from the flashpoint where his flesh speared into mine. Frantic to ride those waves with me, he hammered into me once … twice … a third time before the implosive current pulled him under. His smoke and satin voice shouted my name as the heat of his release rolled through his body and spilled into mine.

Slowly, the trembling and twitching in Nahuel's strong body subsided. His delicious, comforting warmth still enfolded me, and his weight pressed me into the soft mattress beneath us. Encircling me in his strong arms, he cuddled even closer. Wrapped in peace and contentment, surrounded by the soothing scent of my mate, my breathing calmed and slipped into rhythm with his.

The first cell of my brain to return to coherency settled on an embarrassingly mundane thought: I hoped like hell these rooms were as soundproof as Carlisle had said they were, because we'd made enough noise tonight to raise the dead.

Like dominoes tumbling, the thought of Carlisle reminded me of my promise to him and my subsequent pledge to myself that I'd clear the air with Nahuel tonight, after we'd had sex. Mind-blowing sex, to be precise, and this encounter certainly met that criterion.

We lay sprawled together on top of the tangled, sweaty linens. Nahuel rolled us slightly to the side so his weight wouldn't crush me, but he didn't withdraw. He rarely left my body after his first orgasm. Most times when we made love, he needed at least two rounds to be satisfied. It would only be a matter of minutes before he started in again.

Part of me wanted to forget about my promise and just enjoy more of Nahuel's incredible prowess. But the honorable half—the part Harry Clearwater had raised to face problems head-on—knew it was time to tell him and deal with the consequences of my deceptions. After all, Anjali, it seemed, was taking responsibility for her lies. How could I do any less?

It was time. I knew that.

Yet I had no idea how to begin. I loved him more than I'd ever imagined one being could love another. It killed me to think I was going to hurt him.

He sighed contentedly into my messy hair, and his strong arms tightened around me. He nudged his hips against my ass, reminding me that the evening's second act was probably just minutes away.

Frustration and fear roiled inside me, collided with dread and remorse, and swirled together into a bitch's brew of hormone-seasoned angst until the whole mess boiled the fuck over.

I exploded into tears. Huge, snot-blowing, gut-churning, oxygen-stealing sobs.

"Leah!"

Nahuel's lingering erection deflated instantly. He withdrew and rolled me to my back. His big, warm hands frantically stroked my face, smearing my tears. Confusion twisted his beautiful features, and his teak eyes rounded with horror.

"Beloved! Please! What have I done?" he gasped, his voice trembling so badly I could barely make out his words over my wretched weeping. "Have I hurt you? Was I too rough?"

His tenderness, his self-blame, wrecked me even more. I threw my arms around his neck and howled against his chest as if there was no hope left in the world for me.

"Please, my heart! Please," he begged, his voice thick now with his own tears. "Tell me what I have done."

My sobs were so intense and relentless that I began to gag breathlessly. If I didn't get a grip on myself, I was going to make this scene infinitely worse by heaving all over us both. I tried to gulp in lungsful of air, hoping to tap the calming effect of Nahuel's cinnamon and spice scent, but I just couldn't find it.

Nausea surged up my throat.

I bolted from the bed, raced toward the attached bath and made it to the toilet just in time to revisit the meal Nahuel had fed to me so sensually. It was much less pleasant coming back up than it had been going down. I sank to my knees in front of the john, clutching the seat in shaky hands. My mortification was complete when I felt Nahuel stroke my hair away from my tear-streaked face with one hand and gently wipe the spittle from my lips with the other.

Of course he would follow me.

As humiliating as it was to puke in front of him and have him clean me up afterward, my body's revolt seemed to have halted my mind's head-long plunge toward hysteria. I was trembling and hiccupping, but I could breathe now. I could eke out a few words.

"Not your fault, baby," I squeaked.

He dropped to the tiled floor beside me and pulled me onto his lap. His arms gripped me loosely, as if he were afraid I'd crumple again if he held on too tightly.

"I should not have taken you so," he said, his voice still saturated with repentance and shaking with self-disgust. "It was too soon. Too much like what _he_ tried to do to you in that _fucking_ barn."

Stunned, I pulled back to gape at him. He thought my emotional disintegration was because he'd fucked me from behind? I hadn't even _thought_ about the would-be-rapist vamp when we were making love. I'd never equated what he'd tried to do with any loving touch from my imprint. I was shocked that Nahuel would make that connection.

He mistook my astonishment for accusation. His perfect lips trembled, and tears shimmered in his beautiful eyes.

"I am sorry," he choked. "So sorry. Please, forgive me—"

I grabbed his face in my hands. "No! Nahuel, no!" I shook his head, hard. "There is nothing to forgive. I swear to you, you didn't do anything wrong. It's not you. It's me—"

The instant the words were out of my mouth, I realized how they sounded. _That_ combination of words would always sound _that_ way … to any guy who heard them, vampire or human, whether he was fifteen, fifty or a hundred and fifty.

_You are so fucking lame_, the wolf-bitch snarled.

Suddenly, everything snapped into focus. The only way out of this mess was to go through it, and the only tool I had to _get_ us through it was the truth. But damned if I was going to give the man I loved the news that he was about to be a father while he was sitting naked on the cold, hard floor in a bathroom that reeked of my barf. He deserved better.

So far, I hadn't done a single thing right in all this, but I was, by God, going to correct that right the fuck now.

I scrambled up off Nahuel's lap and quickly rinsed my mouth in the sink. Grabbing his hand, I dragged him to his feet and towed him out of the bathroom. He followed me wordlessly, clearly bewildered and hurt and still not believing that he wasn't responsible for my meltdown. Guiding him back to the bed, I gently pressed him to sit, and then dropped down beside him. I took both his hands in both of mine, drew a deep breath and looked him in the eye.

"Nahuel, I mean it," I began, focusing all my strength on keeping my voice calm and even. "You did nothing wrong."

"Then why are you upset?"

It wasn't a challenge. It was a plea for me to make him understand how our beautiful love-making had ended up with me losing it in his arms.

"You're right. I am upset," I conceded. "But it's not because of anything you did. It's entirely my own fault."

He said nothing, only continued watching me with that guarded, studious expression that meant he hadn't yet decided if he would believe me.

I paused to collect my thoughts. I had just one shot to tell him about my pregnancy. Just one chance to say it in a way that would make him understand that this was a source of ineffable joy to me. Just one opportunity to make him see that he could be as happy as I was about the prospect of becoming a parent.

"Nahuel, I'm not good with speeches. You know that. But I hope you also know how much …."

Emotion cracked my voice, and I had to pause. Clearing my throat noisily, I started again. I chose to echo the words he'd spoken to me when he asked me to marry him.

"I hope you know that I love you with all that I am." I held his eyes, willing him to absorb the truth of my words. "Since the moment I first realized I love you, I haven't regretted anything about being with you. Not one thing."

"Thank you," he breathed, relief shining brightly in his warm eyes. "I love you, too, Leah. I always will."

A dread-filled chill danced down my spine, and I smiled weakly.

"I hope you still feel that way after I tell you … what I have to tell you." I let go of one hand and scrubbed at my suddenly burning eyes. "I'm scared shitless that you're going to hate me forever."

He snatched my hand away from my eyes. Determination stretched his lush lips into a hard line. "No. There is nothing you could ever do or say that would change my feelings or diminish my love."

My heart was flailing against my ribs like a harnessed housecat trying to escape whatever asshole put a leash on it. I swallowed hard, trying to organize my thoughts over the internal shrieking contest taking place between the school girl and the wolf-bitch.

"I haven't been entirely honest with you, Nahuel," I began, and my heart iced over at the hesitancy that crept into his eyes at my declaration. I barreled forward before I lost my nerve.

"In fact, I've lied to you about something very important." I hesitated, my mouth opening and closing, opening and closing like a guppy in a pond full of piranha, just waiting for the bigger fish to notice it.

"Just tell me, ñi piuque."

Hearing him use his special name for me gave my quivering, cowardly heart a tiny burst of hope. I drew a deep breath and paused, knowing I was standing with one foot on the bedrock of Nahuel's love and the other dangling over the precipice of total disaster. I closed my eyes, mentally shifted my weight to that hanging-over-space foot, and took the plunge.

"Nahuel, I'm pr—"

A thunderous explosion rocked the huge house, drowning out my voice.

A series of smaller blasts followed, then wound down to silence. Seconds later, screams—piercing and terrified—shattered the unnatural quiet. What in the world could make a vampire squeal like that? I could think of just one thing.

"Fire!"

I couldn't identify the voice screaming from the hallway, but its urgency galvanized us both into action.

We sprang naked from the bed and raced toward the door … just as the far wall of our bedroom blasted inward in a shower of debris and smoke.

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><p><em><strong>End Note:<strong>__ Yeah, I did it. *Hides behind sofa* You may now gather your torches, release the hounds and scream outside my cottage door. But in all fairness, I did warn you a few chapters ago that this was going to happen a lot between now and the end. I know you probably hate me right now, but do you trust me? Trust me. Everything will be fine. Really.  
><em>


	38. Saviour Machine

_**A/N: ***Peeks over back of sofa.* Oh! Glad you're still here. Soooo some people were ... ahem ... a little annoyed with me for the last chapter. Some of you just enjoyed the hot vamp-lovin'. Most of you seem willing to forgive me. I appreciate that._

_Evelyn-Shaye and MunkeeRajah, the bestest betas in the world, did fast work on this chapter, so you're getting it a day or two sooner than I'd originally planned. I love them more than the last day of school!  
><em>

_Twilight is still all about the Stephie.  
><em>

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><p>Chapter 38 – Saviour Machine<p>

**Leah POV**

When you spend pretty much every day of six years surrounded by a pack of testosterone-addled, intellectually challenged mutts, you see a lot of action movies filled with car chases and explosions. Watch enough things blow up on screen and you might start to think you know what it would be like to actually _be_ in an explosion.

You'd be wrong. _I_ sure as hell was.

All the Dolby-quality, surround-sound booms of a hundred movie-house blowouts couldn't compare to the concussion of noise and force that pummeled us when the bedroom wall erupted inward. Heat, sound and debris crashed into the room, battering us. Tossing us.

We were frogs in a blender.

The blast was so intense, so powerful, that I couldn't tuck and roll, cover my head or even locate my ass to kiss it goodbye. I couldn't do anything but scrunch my eyes shut and wait for the buffeting to stop. When it finally did, I found myself jammed against the door of the room, buried under layers of vamp-boy, shredded mattress and smoldering drywall.

Although the explosion was over, the sound lingered, leaving a residue of buzzing and ringing in my throbbing head. I forced my eyes open and got an eyeful of Nahuel's naked, grime-smeared chest pressed up against my nose. I was half on my back, half on my side, wedged into the angle where the door met the floor. Nahuel was pretty much on top of me, and though his arms had somehow found their way around me, he wasn't moving. I was so tightly stuck I couldn't even budge my head enough to see his face.

My first thought was to wonder how our group's resident class-clowns-slash-village-idiots, Paul and Emmett, had pulled off a punk of this magnitude. In the next second, I realized this whole scenario was way beyond the limited capabilities of my blockheaded pack brother and his vampire counterpart. And not even Paul was enough of an ass to blow up a room just to jerk my chain.

Then, before either of us had moved or even drawn a deep breath, fury ripped through me, the kind of anger that could snuff out the sun.

I'd finally mustered the courage to tell my imprint the secret that had been eating me alive for days, and the god-damned room blew up. Really? Whose idea of a sick joke was this?

Fate was seriously fucking with me.

Shakes seized my body, rattling my teeth and bouncing my limbs. I wasn't sure if anger or shock were to blame.

I realized I was muttering something against Nahuel's warm skin. I tried to tune into it. Whatever was coming out of my mouth in a smoke-roughened whisper seemed to be on a repeating loop. I tried to shake the buzzing loose from inside my head and managed to move my noggin a few centimeters.

The cacophony in my ears began to fade. I gripped Nahuel's arms and focused. My breathy babbling resolved into coherent sound.

"I'm pregnant … I'm pregnant … I'm pregnant …."

_Holy shit!_ the wolf-bitch screeched in horror. _Not like this! Don't tell him like this!_

I knew I should stop talking—had never wished for a muzzle more than in that moment. But the valve inside my head that should have been set to the "shut the fuck up" position was, instead, frozen wide open in "verbal diarrhea" mode.

_No, no, no! He deserves better than this! You're ruining everything!_

The truth that had been festering inside me burst out, and the same artless words kept rolling from my mouth brutally, repeatedly.

All of thirty seconds had passed since the blast. Too little time for me to figure out what the hell had caused it, what the hell was going on or what we should do now. Not even enough time for me to give more than a passing thought to where Jake and everyone else was, or just who was still screaming like a total pussy in the hallway.

But apparently, it was _plenty_ of time for me to annihilate my imprint's sanity—and my own.

_Maybe he's out cold and can't hear._

"I'm pregnant … I'm pregnant … I'm pregnant …."

As if someone had hooked his toes to an industrial-strength battery and electrified him, every muscle in Nahuel's body suddenly went rigid. I heard and felt the even, comforting thump of his heart stutter, stumble and then kick into double-time. When he sucked in a huge, rattling breath, it finally registered that he hadn't been breathing at all until that second.

His arms around me tightened to a crushing grip.

_Ah, fuck! He's conscious. _

"I'm pregnant … I'm pregnant … I'm pregnant …."

His head jerked backward away from me, and I finally got a look at his face. Even covered in soot and grime, his beauty pierced my soul. And though I'd prided myself on how good I'd become at reading his emotions, I was at a total loss now to define what I saw in his bottomless eyes.

Whatever it was, it stopped my rambling cold.

For a moment, he just stared at me with an alien, unreadable expression.

That invisible cable, which had been peaceful and painless for so long, wrenched excruciatingly. The crush of his arms and the thick, smoke-filled air drove my breathing into a shallow, insufficient panting. I poured over every line of his dear face, looking for any hint of what he was thinking, and I died a thousand deaths before he finally spoke.

"I heard you the first time," he said, quietly, his faultless lips barely moving to form the words.

His level voice was fatalistically calm. Distant and disinterested. As if he were a commuter commenting on the architectural appeal of a mildly intriguing building that he saw every day from the window of a speeding train.

Pain, sharp and fierce, lanced into the base of my throat as the invisible cable twisted tight. My fingers dug into his arms, and I opened my mouth to speak, even though I had no freaking clue what I should say—what I possibly _could_ say—in response to his emotionlessness.

In the next second, his warm body was ripped out of my arms. The lights had gone out in the room when the blast hit, but in the smoky darkness, just enough moonlight reflected off the pale walls for me to see his legs being dragged backward over the small heap of debris that had been our king-sized mattress.

Something—or someone—had grabbed him from behind.

"Nahuel!"

Every muscle in my body screamed as I lunged after him. Still naked as the day I was born, I scrambled over the pile of rubble. My foot snagged in a loop of shredded fabric. I somersaulted clumsily down the other side of the wreckage, landing on my ass with my legs spread like a groupie who was ready to pay the hard way for a backstage pass.

My laboring lungs gave up their last molecule of air at the scene waiting for me on the other side of that moraine of debris.

Some variation of this vision had starred in my nightmares for days, ever since my near-rape in that fucking barn. I'd awakened from every one of those dreams shaking, sweating and gasping for breath—grateful beyond words to escape. Now I felt like I was trapped inside those nightmares, unable to rouse.

Remy stood stone-still in front of the collapsed wall. Cold wind rushed through the gap behind him, spitting pebble-hard shards of snow and ice into the room. The frozen droplets stung wherever they hit my naked flesh, but they bounced off his invincible back, pinging audibly. Some collected in his strawberry blonde curls and glittered there like a net of diamonds.

He held Nahuel in a headlock. With his elbows hooked under my imprint's armpits, Joham's errand boy had his hands clasped behind Nahuel's head, forcing it down onto his chest. My stomach iced over at the listless, hopeless vacancy in my imprint's eyes. Nahuel hung limply in Remy's arms.

He didn't struggle. He didn't move. He didn't even look at me.

"Well, hello, sweetness."

The tenor voice still held that bayou twang, but the whiskey smoothness was roughened by the way his breath whistled and hissed eerily through his ravaged face. It was hard to believe the asshole could talk at all. I guessed whoever had pieced him back together hadn't been able to fix the gaping wound where Nahuel had ripped away half the bastard's face. Wickedly sharp white teeth flashed visibly through the hole where his cheek should have been, and the torn edges of his lips faded into silver as they stretched and pulled over the exposed jawbone. The grisly awfulness of the right side of his face was all the more horrific for the perfection of the left side.

I felt a perverse sense of satisfaction that, even if I died here tonight, this fucker would go through eternity with a mangled face. This was the shitbag who'd tried to rape me. Who'd taunted Nahuel. Who'd fucked and knocked up my baby brother's imprint. Who'd used his remote-viewing abilities to violate Seth's privacy and emotions as thoroughly as he'd tried to violate my body.

He terrified me, but I faced him now with advantages I'd lacked the first time we tangled.

I wasn't injured.

I knew what he could do.

I had something unbelievably precious to protect.

"Don't you look delicious?"

Bile raced up my throat at his suggestive leer.

I drew breath to spit a curse at him, tensing my muscles in preparation to tap that inner core of energy that would turn me into a wolf. I gave only a fleeting thought to the repercussions phasing might have for my baby. There was no time to think about it; the change took less than a second.

But between the split second I gave in to instinct and triggered the phase, and the instant when the transformation _should_ have begun, my body went inexplicably limp. The energy drained away from my limbs, retreating to my center in a burning rush.

_I can't move! I can't fucking move! What the hell is happening to me? _

A tall, dark silhouette appeared in the rent wall behind the rapist-vamp. Soundlessly, the figure stepped into the room, moving so lithely over the debris-strewn floor that the wreckage didn't even crunch beneath his feet. The form passed into a pallid patch of moonlight.

His skin was so pale it was almost luminescent. The shape and tilt of his ruby red eyes, the sleek, short hair that was glossy blue-black like a raven's wing, the long, lean line of his tall form—all were disturbingly familiar, even though I'd never seen this particular vamp before.

_Ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck …._

He approached me eagerly, stopping when his shoes were just inches from my outstretched toes. For a moment, he towered over me before gracefully lowering himself to crouch beside me.

I wanted desperately to flinch away from the long, ice-cold fingers he brushed over my forehead. But of course, he wasn't allowing that movement—or any other. When he'd first arrived in Forks, Nahuel had told the Cullens about his father's ability to paralyze a victim. Joham had used that ability to murder my imprint's aunt. Now he was using it on me.

He smiled and his smooth, handsome cheeks dimpled slightly. Probably he meant the youthful grin to be friendly and reassuring—maybe even kind in his own sick interpretation of the sentiment. Instead, all I saw was a twisted perversion of Nahuel's sweet smile.

His frigid fingers stroked down my cheek, and his hand cupped my chin fully, lifting my face toward his, as if he needed a better view to inspect me.

"Hello, Leah," Joham said in a voice half a harmonic deeper than Nahuel's. "I am so very pleased to meet you at last."

We'd wasted most of the past day plotting how we would bait, track and battle Nahuel's batshit crazy DNA donor. Why hadn't it occurred to anyone that he was insane enough to come after us? Had we really thought our sheer numbers and the cooperation of the Volturi would be enough to protect us from someone so evil and insane that he made Aro look like a bubbly girl scout?

Joham had grown tired of waiting for us to come to him.

Tired of the dodge and dance we'd been playing for the past two months. Murders, kidnappings, half-assed attacks—he'd obviously had enough of it all. He'd brought the fight to us.

If he was here, in this room with me and his son, it meant he was confident he wasn't going to be interrupted. He'd either killed or controlled the other members of our group. Seth, Jake, my pack brothers, the Cullens ….

_Stop it! Focus on what's in front of you,_ the wolf-bitch commanded. _It's the only thing you might be able to affect. _

Joham's gruesome burgundy eyes drifted south from my face, caressing down my naked body. Yet there was nothing sexual about his regard. He looked at me with the same impersonal interest a researcher might have for something particularly unusual in a petri dish. His gaze settled on my flat stomach, and if I'd been capable of movement, I'd have clapped my hands over my abdomen and scuttled away from him on my ass.

But of course, I couldn't move.

_Why can't I move? Why isn't Bella shielding me? Where the hell is Jake?_

_Stop it! Focus! _

"You are as appealing as Remy reported," Joham said, conversationally. He rocked back on his heels and studied me calmly. "You are an excellent choice to carry my son's progeny."

At that, Nahuel exploded into loud, shrill curses.

He'd been quiet and complacent in Remy's grasp, as if he hadn't really cared what was happening around him. Apparently, Joham hadn't been using his paralytic power on my imprint, because Nahuel began to struggle, clawing at the rapist's arms, writhing and squirming to break his hold.

I didn't understand whatever he was screaming—probably in his mother's native tongue—but Joham obviously did. And he didn't like it one bit. His lips pressed into a disapproving line, and he cast an annoyed glance over his shoulder at his son.

Nahuel's body sagged instantly, but he continued to rage and curse. Ignoring him, Joham turned back to me, a glint of censure in his eyes.

"He was unaware." An undertone of disapproval had slithered into his overly calm, friendly tone. "You did not inform him that you are breeding."

Joham's power over my body apparently didn't extend to certain internal muscles, so I managed to clench my sphincter and avoid disgracing myself totally. If I hadn't already emptied my stomach just minutes before, I'd be vomiting now, because my body wanted to void itself of the terror that ripped through me at having my worst fears confirmed.

He _knew_. My imprint's psycho father knew I was pregnant with his grandchild.

Suddenly, I was back in that hell hole of a barn, and the brain-rapist's cold breath was washing over my naked skin, his icy claw pressing into my abdomen.

"_Looks like I'm not the only one who knows what he's doing. Who'da thought the loser half-breed had it in 'im?"_

"_I ain't too proud to take sloppy seconds. I'll enjoy a fruitless fuck just as much as I would planting one in you."_

Of _course_ Joham knew. Before I'd told Nahuel in the worst possible way, before Carlisle's ultrasound had confirmed it, before I'd even known _myself_ … Joham had known I was pregnant. Because Remy had known. And whatever Remy knew, Joham did, too.

"Why would you withhold this information from my son?" Joham demanded. If I'd needed any more confirmation that he was a sick, crazy fuck, the righteous indignation in his voice would have sealed it for me. I gaped at him wordlessly.

"She knew I would not want it!" Nahuel spat, and the angry loathing in his tone, the venom in his words, splintered my heart. "She knew I would insist she get rid of it."

Joham's elegant brow creased in candid puzzlement.

"Why ever would you wish to terminate such an extraordinary pregnancy?"

Still crouched beside me, he pivoted to face Nahuel, showing me his back as confidently as if I were no more threat to him than a wounded rabbit.

_Let him think you're no threat,_ the wolf-bitch growled. _Over-confidence is weakness._

"You have sired a new species," Joham continued, speaking easily over Nahuel's snarling and cursing. "Congratulations, my son. You have fulfilled the purpose for which you were born."

Nahuel cringed as if his father had slapped him across his beautiful face. What little color he'd had drained completely from his cheeks. His eyes, hollow and horrified, drifted from Joham to settle on me where I still sprawled on the floor.

"_She_ is my purpose," he choked, his voice barely audible over the whistle of the wind that gushed into the ruined room. "When she dies … when the monster I have put in her belly murders her … I will die, too."

Remy cackled like a jackal.

"Oh, Romeo! So dramatic! You sound like a school boy who fell for the first whore that popped his cherry."

Rage scorched across Nahuel's face, obliterating the despondency that had marred his beautiful features only seconds before. I welcomed the mood swing. I'd rather see him furious than fatalistic any day. Anger meant there was still something in him that was hoping and responding.

He began to curse again in that foreign language. Remy only laughed harder at Nahuel's helpless fury, but Joham seemed to find my imprint's display far less humorous.

"Enough," he said mildly. Nahuel made a gurgling sound and then fell silent.

Joham turned back to me, studying me speculatively. As if coming to some decision—one that probably would only make sense to him—he slid one arm beneath my knees, the other behind my shoulders and gathered me in his arms. Apparently, he'd decided it was time for us to go.

Something was moving inside me. Heat and energy spun slowly, cautiously, low in my abdomen. It rolled and tickled beneath the surface of my skin. Nudged and nuzzled its way toward the surface.

"It is possible she might survive," Joham said, his deep, resonant voice flat and clinical. "It would be regrettable if such a truly unique creature were to perish. I've invested much to achieve this outcome."

He rose smoothly to his feet, lifting me in his arms with that same unnatural grace and ease with which Nahuel always moved. He turned to Remy.

"Come. There is much to be done. I have many tests to perform. I am eager to learn as much as possible about the fetus while her body still seems able to sustain it."

A ragged sob tore from Nahuel's throat. Tears escaped his clenched eyes and streaked ceaselessly down his tortured face.

A low pulse of heat gently radiated out through my limbs. Something was happening. But what? Did I even have time to wonder?

And abruptly, without any conscious effort from me, the jumbled puzzle pieces of the past two months clicked into place.

_Me_. It had always been about _me_. Not Nahuel. Not Renesmee. _Me._

Somehow, whether Huilen had told him or he'd found out some other way, Joham had known all along of my existence. He'd known that there was a female shape-shifter just hanging out, doing not much of anything, in the Pacific Northwest.

A female that would make an oh-so-interesting addition to his breeding program.

Taking Nahuel. Murdering Huilen. Torturing his son. Allowing Anjali to help Nahuel escape. Providing an opportunity for his flight north to Forks.

Joham had manipulated everything all along.

Maybe he knew what a vamp-whore his son had become and had gambled that Nahuel wouldn't pass on the opportunity for a unique lay. Maybe he theorized that he could manipulate circumstances to drive us together. Maybe he'd just thought he could throw us in a room alone somewhere and keep us there until we copulated. If he'd known of my apparent infertility, it wouldn't have mattered to him. He'd have thought of a way to jump-start my reproductive system if nature hadn't done it first.

Whatever. He didn't really _have_ to have a good plan—or any plan at all. After all, he was crazier than a shit-house rat. The fact that he not only thought he was sane, but brilliantly so, only served to underscore the depth of his lunacy.

But there were a few things Joham couldn't have known.

Having no knowledge of, or interest in, Quileute legends, he'd had no way of knowing that I'd imprint on his son.

Having no capacity for love himself, he couldn't have anticipated that his son and I would fall in love.

Having no soul of his own, he'd have no idea that two broken, flawed spirits could come together to form a complete, perfect, _powerful_ whole.

The softly glowing bud of warmth and energy that had been swelling inside me for the past few minutes suddenly blossomed. Serenity—radiant, healing and potent—settled over me like the comforting security of my father's strong arms. Something pure and strong and _liberating_ pulsed through my body.

_What?_ The wolf-bitch was bewildered. _What's happening?_

My eyes swept over Joham's shoulder and settled on my imprint, where he still hung limp and despondent in Remy's arms.

"Nahuel, look at me," I commanded, my voice steady and confident, as if being held naked in a bombed-out room at the mercy of two insane vampires were no more worrisome than discovering a splinter under a thumbnail.

Surprise flitted across Joham's striking face. Even though he hadn't been restraining my ability to speak, he hadn't expected me to say anything.

Nahuel's eyes popped open and locked on mine. His breathing was shallow and listless. The warm coffee-and-cream tone of his skin had curdled into something sallow and bleak. I stared at him, and waited until I was sure I had him—really had him ensnared—before I continued.

"I love you, baby, and I am _not_ going to die," I told him, confidently. "_We_ are not going to die. Not here. Not tonight."

I held his gaze just long enough to see a tiny spark of hope kindle in the depths of his teak eyes. Then I looked back at Joham.

He exuded the offended surprise you'd expect a scientist to display if the fungus he was studying under a microscope suddenly climbed off the slide and attempted to knee him in the balls. The ripple in his composure was only minor and momentary, however, and a second later, he seemed to conclude that I was about as impotent and absurd as that hypothetical fungus.

_Wrong, asshole._

"You are a rare treasure indeed," he allowed grudgingly. "But sacrifices sometimes must be made in the interest of advancing science."

"Fuck your sacrifices," I replied calmly. "Fuck science. And. Fuck. You."

The breath of that punctuating epithet hadn't fully escaped my lips when I phased.

And Joham suddenly found his arms full of powerful, pissed off she-wolf.

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><p><em><strong>End note: <strong> Oh-KAY! Who's ready to see Leah open a can of she-wolf whup-ass? A show of hands, please?_


	39. The Voyeur of Utter Destruction

_**A/N: **Wow, the reaction to the last chapter was great. The answer to my little poll in the end note was a resounding "yes!" So here's the tail-kicking you all asked for. Thanks as always to my betas, Evelyn-Shaye and MunkeeRajah. I love them more than an ice-cold keg of whup-ass! Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just wading in her pool for a while._

* * *

><p>Chapter 39 – The Voyeur of Utter Destruction<p>

**Leah POV**

I phased in Joham's arms and plunged into immediate sensory overload: The appalling reek of vampire layered thickly over the smoky stench of scorched drywall. The frantic thundering of Nahuel's heart and the ragged rasp of his breath. The god-awful taste and sensation of cold, hard flesh in my mouth.

My mind zipped in a thousand directions at once, so it was bizarre—and possibly fatal—that my brain chose to snag on the smothering quiet inside my head.

For six long years, phasing had meant willfully cracking open my cranium and accepting the shared thoughts of a horde of testosterone-addled werewolves. I'd always thought it was the worst part of being a werewolf, especially in the months when I'd been trapped in Sam's pack—and in his head. When Jake's defection had created the opportunity for me to get the hell away from my ex-fiance's thoughts, I'd jumped at the chance. It hadn't taken me long to decide that while sharing a pack mind with Jacob and Seth—and later Quil, Embry, Paul and Beau—was better than being stuck with Sam, it still sucked balls in its own way.

Now, as my fangs sank deep into the dead, granite flesh of Joham's shoulder, the silence in my skull threatened to swamp me.

_Jake! Seth! _

_Leave it,_ the wolf-bitch admonished. _Keep your head in the game, or you're dead._

That soft, strong phantom warmth pulsed through my veins again, as if it silently agreed with the she-wolf's advice. The fleeting sense of impending panic faded beneath a fresh wave of calm.

I've never claimed to be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I do learn from experience—eventually. Three times in my life as a werewolf, I'd been on the receiving end of a vampire's crushing grip. The lesson I'd learned was that if I let a tick get its arms around me, I'd play hell shaking it off, never mind winning the fight. So when I surprised the crap out of Joham by phasing while he still held me, I knew exactly what to do with the sliver of advantage I'd earned. I needed to disarm the bastard.

Before Nahuel's morally unhinged sperm-supplier had so much as a second to realize my fur was in his face, I buried my teeth in his shoulder and ripped the douchebag's arm off. His limb separated from his torso with a profoundly satisfying dry snap.

_Kind of hard to crush me if you're short an arm, isn't it, asshat?_

Joham didn't scream. Didn't so much as utter a single curse. He staggered back, gaping in surprise at the ragged stump where his right arm used to be. Behind him, Remy appeared to be equally stunned. He'd gone utterly still in that creepy, patented vampire way that always made my skin crawl.

Getting a face full of pissed-off wolf and losing an arm had apparently broken Joham's concentration, because suddenly, Nahuel could move again. My imprint didn't lose a second taking advantage of his freedom. In a flash almost too quick to follow, he twisted his head and sank his teeth into Remy's elbow, which was the only part of the brain-molester that he could reach at the moment.

Remy's past experience had probably left him a bit overly sensitive to being bitten, and especially to being bitten by Nahuel. Joham may have been stoic about my chomping his arm off, but Remy had no such self-control. When Nahuel bit into the meaty part of bayou boy's arm, Remy screamed like a little girl and tried to shove my imprint away. Really, I'd never seen a more gutless vamp; he was a classic bully that fell apart when a victim put up a fight.

Rather than let go and run—which was the course of action I would have endorsed—Nahuel released Remy's elbow, twisted out of his arms and somehow ended up behind him. Nahuel leapt onto the vamp's back, hooked his legs around Remy's waist, grabbed his head, and buried his teeth in the back of Remy's neck. With a sound like shredding metal, he began gnawing at Remy's throat, clearly working on separating his head from his shoulders.

Remy lurched backward, obviously looking for a strong wall to bash Nahuel against. He staggered a few unsteady steps and then, as if in slow-motion, he toppled out of the decimated wall and into the dark, snow-filled night with Nahuel still latched onto him.

My heart boomed behind my breastbone at the sight of them disappearing into the darkness. Our room was on the second floor of the mansion, but while I was confident they could both handle the two-story drop without injury, I wasn't so sure about Nahuel's ability to finish Remy off on his own. I needed to get to him—and fast.

All this took just a few seconds, but it was enough for Joham to regain at least a little composure. He growled low in his throat and glared at me.

A crisp coldness, like the frost that lingers in the corners of a window pane, crackled against my pelt. Joham was trying to regain control of my body, but the comforting internal heat that had freed me from his mental grip just seconds ago softly bubbled to the surface again.

I felt warm and safe and fucking _invincible._

I didn't care about the source of the warmth right now. I just knew there was no way Joham's talent was getting through it. Perfect calm settled over me, and my galloping heart slowed to a gentle canter.

Joham began sliding to the left, obviously trying to position himself between me and the shattered wall, as if he could read my mind and knew I was thinking of going after Nahuel and Remy. Behind me, the screaming that had rang throughout the hallway following the explosion had finally stopped. Now, the snarls of both vampires and werewolves, metallic shredding sounds and jarring rumbles carried through the smoky, cold air.

Clearly, when I broke Joham's concentration by chewing his arm off, the distraction had freed more than just Nahuel. From the sounds of it, a knock-down, drag-out fight was going on elsewhere in the house. Now that the fight was fair, without Joham's influence and with Jake leading them, my pack was more than capable of winning any battle.

I, however, knew I would need help to defeat Nahuel's batshit-crazy sire.

The truth was I'd gotten in a damned lucky hit when I took off his arm. Though I'd swallow my own tail before I'd admit it out loud, I just wasn't as physically strong as my larger pack brothers. Jake or Seth on their own could take down a lone vamp, even one as psycho, old and experienced as Joham. But I didn't have that kind of brute force, and even now, with him down one arm, Joham was still a danger to me.

I needed to rely on my advantages: wits, speed and the fact that Joham seemed to consistently underestimate me. I didn't count being knocked up as one of those advantages; I had no illusion that Joham would spare me in order to preserve the pregnancy he found so very interesting. If he couldn't get his hands on my baby alive, he'd probably be just as happy to kill me and dissect my corpse.

Maybe if I delayed long enough, Jake or Seth would come looking for me. But then, it would also mean I would be delayed in getting to my imprint. I needed to rattle Joham. I needed to regain the advantage, and I wasn't above playing head games to do it.

Neither, apparently, was my enemy.

"Such a risk-taker, little wolf," he chided silkily. "I wonder what effect changing your shape is having on your unborn child. Will it survive?"

He continued moving, shifting his position minutely to put him closer to the open wall. Just as I was gambling that our dance might give my pack brothers time to find me, Joham was betting that the longer he delayed me, the better Remy's chances of taking out Nahuel. I paced him inch for inch, angling to keep my body between him and his escape route.

Thinking of Jacob and Seth made the stillness inside my head swell. It pressed painfully behind my eyes.

_Ignore it,_ my inner bitch commanded. _It can't hurt you. HE can't hurt you—unless you screw up and give him an opening. _

I didn't try to suppress the growl that rumbled up from my gut as Joham continued his slow slide toward the ruptured wall.

"I can help you," he offered, with the paper-thin sincerity of a televangelist promising salvation. "I have invested more than two centuries in studying the products of human-vampire mating. I know better than anyone what you face in the coming weeks. I may not be able to preserve your life, but I can save your offspring."

His eyes narrowed slyly, maliciously. "Nahuel will want to kill it, you know." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "I can save your child from its father."

I brutally hammered down the surge of dread his words churned up. Whatever Nahuel felt about my pregnancy, whatever I'd need to do to regain his trust and rebuild the foundation of our future together, I sure as hell wasn't going to discuss it with Joham.

If I'd been in human form, my reply to his wheedling would have been something along the lines of "Fuck you sideways with a big splintery stick." Instead, I had to settle for a non-verbal response. I curled my upper lip, revealed my fangs and chuffed repeatedly, low in my throat.

Anyone who'd ever had a dog would understand my expression for the canine equivalent of laughing.

I thought about the best food I'd ever eaten—the pancake dinner Nahuel had made for me on the night he proposed—and my mouth flooded with saliva. I allowed some of it to dribble through my lips, and stretched my jaws wide so Joham would see the drool dripping off my long gleaming fangs.

Again the coldness of Joham's power butted up against my shield of warmth, but this time it was so weak, so ineffectual, it felt like nothing more than the brush of butterfly wings across naked skin.

I recognized the exact instant that Joham accepted he wasn't going to be able to regain control of me. His crimson eyes narrowed, his lips pulled back in a snarl, and he dropped into a defensive one-armed crouch.

I readied myself for his attack.

Either I'd succeeded in making him take me seriously, or he was just an even bigger pussy than I'd first thought, but instead of lunging at me head-on, as I'd expected, Joham feinted. He dodged to my left, and when I moved to intercept him, he turned tail and ran like the gutless wonder he was. He leapt gracefully through the broken wall and disappeared into the night.

_No fucking way!_

I wasn't going to let him escape. I wanted this stupidity over. I wanted my life back, and I wanted Nahuel out from under the shadow of his father's existence. I jumped through the wall after him and hit the ground running.

Joham's abattoir stench was easy to follow. So was the trail Remy and my imprint had left in the snow. The ground was trampled, and tiny scraps of vampire bits glinted silver on the snow. Joham appeared to be tracking them. He was gambling that Remy had either already defeated Nahuel or, if he hadn't, that he'd be able to with Joham's help. Of course, whatever was protecting me from Joham's talent didn't seem to work for Nahuel. Once he was paralyzed, they'd easily rip him apart. When they were done with him, they'd turn their joint attention to me, and I'd be toast if my pack brothers hadn't found me by then.

I didn't slow my headlong run in the slightest, but while I ran, I did the only thing I could think of that might still help me. I started screaming in my head for anyone I thought might be able to hear.

_Jake! Seth! Edward! Help! We've got Joham, but I need help! Jake! Seth! Edward!_

If I'd concentrated—really focused on reconnecting with my Alpha—I probably could have reached Jake. But there was no time for that kind of interlude. I barreled through the night, kicking up hard clumps of snow and ice, amazed at how far my imprint and his opponents had traveled away from the house in such a short amount of time.

My focus was so narrow that I had no clue I wasn't alone until a small, ice-cold cannonball slammed into me head-on. The impact bowled me backward, tumbling tail over snout until the momentum split the missile and me apart. I rolled thrice more before coming up on all four feet, head lowered and ready to face my attacker.

The ringing in my ears spluttered into silence. My heart seized like an overheated engine.

My attacker was just an inch or two taller than three feet. Long, cascading curls of silvery blonde hair tenderly framed a face that belonged on a cherub in a Raphael painting of some heavenly scene. Her skin was pale and perfect as moonlight, her mouth formed a flawless Cupid's bow.

My first thought was that she was simply the most rapturously beautiful thing I'd ever seen. My second was that I was staring my own death in the face, because there was no way I could fight the creature in front of me.

She couldn't have been more than five years old when she'd died.

My stomach cramped excruciatingly. A dry heave strangled me.

_Fuck me. The Volturi were right._

Right to outlaw the creation of immortal children. Right to exterminate every one they encountered. Right to bestow on their creators the ultimate punishment.

Everything that was on the line—my baby, Nahuel's life, my _own_ life—I couldn't save any of it now.

There was no way I could kill a child. Not even one that wasn't really a child at all anymore. Not even a killer that would gladly tear my throat out and drain me dry before moving on to the next hundred or so innocent victims.

I just couldn't do it.

She barreled into me like a Panzer plowing through a field of peasants.

I curled in on myself, trying to protect my belly and my eyes from her vicious little teeth. She snapped at my shoulders and back—wherever she could reach. My tucked-up posture kept my throat out of her grasp, and her jaws were simply too little to open wide enough to allow her to pierce easily through my thick pelt and hide.

Her high, shrill growls of frustration were bladder-loosening in their intensity. She was crazed with blood-lust and as petulantly angry as a toddler denied a second slice of birthday cake. This tot would never tire of the tantrum, though. Eventually, she'd wear through my defenses, and I'd be done.

Maybe if I hadn't been about to be a mother myself, I'd have been able to fight back. She hadn't yet broken through my skin, but the sting of her hundreds of little bites began to seep through my fur, and all I could think of was how I would feel if I were this child's mother.

Did she know what had happened to her baby?

_God, I hope not._

Did she think her dead? Abducted? Lost?

I tried to tell myself that this was a savage newborn vampire. I should hate her. I should easily kill her. I shouldn't feel bad about it at all. It was like killing a snake before it had a chance to bite you. Right?

Except it wasn't.

_It's not her fault._

Could I live with myself knowing I'd killed a child? Even this one?

_No. I couldn't._

Her savage little teeth had settled on a spot near the base of my neck. Her jaws pinched repeatedly, and each time her teeth sank a little deeper, working their way through thick fur, heading toward hide. Tiny fingers tore at my shoulders, ripping tufts of fur out by the roots.

It was only a matter of time.

_I love you, baby. I'm sorry._

For the second time that night, a body was abruptly ripped away from mine. She took two fistfuls of fur and a mouthful of skin with her as her tiny form went flying backward through the air. I sprang to my feet and whirled around to face whatever the hell this new threat might be.

The Volturi guard … the big one that made Emmett look dainty … held the vampire child by the throat, dangling her flailing little body in the air at arm's length. I was pretty sure that as a vampire he couldn't really vomit, but he looked like he wanted to. In my experience, blood-suckers usually _inspired_ expressions of revulsion and horror; they didn't usually _wear_ such expressions.

The tracker appeared beside Felix, took one look at the snarling child and actually gagged.

"Kill it!" Demetri hissed, and Felix didn't hesitate for even an instant.

With one hand, he seized the child's neck and wrenched her head off her shoulders. The snarling stopped abruptly, and he dropped both pieces of the girl to the ground. My gorge rose, and I fought it down.

_Of all the fucked up things I've seen …._

When Demetri produced a lighter, I took off.

The past two minutes would haunt my dreams for decades. Maybe for eternity.

_Forget it. Don't think about it. You couldn't save her. Focus on who you can save._

I ran. As fast as I'd chased after Charlie's cruiser the day I'd spilled the beans to my mother's boyfriend about everything. As fast as my pounding heart and legs could manage.

There was no time to agonize over the horrors behind me, or even those ahead of me. Within seconds, I was on them, and the scene was as terrible as anything I could have imagined.

Remy had Nahuel face down in the snow, his knee planted in the small of my imprint's back. He'd dragged Nahuel's arms back behind his body, stretching and hauling on them at a painful angle. Nahuel screamed in agony and rage, but was incapable of fighting back. Remy laughed like Nahuel had just told the best nun-walks-into-a-bar joke _ever_.

Joham stood by placidly watching his minion tear apart his son. His power wasn't working on me, but he had no compunction about using it against his own child.

In that moment, I hated him more than I'd ever hated anyone or anything in my life. In the history of the world, there was never a parent who less deserved the gift of the child he'd been given. Any creature sick enough to abuse his own child and steal someone else's didn't deserve to exist—not a second longer.

I hit Joham just as he was turning to face me, and in a move as elegant and powerful as any Jake or Seth had ever made in battle, I took him down in one smooth arc.

_For Nahuel. _

He thrashed beneath me, fangs gnashing for my throat. An icy fist connected low on my side with a painful thump, and I grunted. His legs scissored beneath me, trying to buck me off, but he was already as good as dead.

_For my baby._

My fangs were in his throat, just under his chin. I ground my jaws together, gnawing through cold, dead flesh. The stench of vampire and fear permeated the atmosphere.

_For that lost little girl._

Long, cold fingers tore at the skin of my shoulder, and his knees repeatedly hammered into my gut, but my grip didn't loosen. I maintained the pressure, and suddenly, my fangs rang against each other, and I knew I'd never have a better moment.

I lashed my head to the side, and Joham's neck separated midway between his collarbone and jaw. I spat the head on the ground, and it rolled a few inches from his decapitated torso before slowly spinning to a stop.

I had no second to savor what should have been a profoundly satisfying moment. No reprieve in which to feel cheated by how easy it had ultimately been to extinguish Joham's evil. Even as I snorted the bastard's stench from my nostrils, I caught the stink of two new vamps. Had more of Joham's minions arrived to torture Nahuel and me? I leapt from the headless body and whirled around to face whatever this new threat might be.

A male and female flanked Remy, but instead of helping him, they were obviously restraining him. They each held an arm as he struggled. At their feet, Nahuel sprawled on the snow and gasped for air. I lunged forward, loosely grabbed his bicep in my teeth and dragged him through the snow away from the trio.

"Peace, wolf," the female said, watching me cautiously. "We're friends. I'm Kate." She nodded to the tall, blonde vampire on the other side of Remy. "This is Garrett."

Of course. The other two members of the Denali coven.

I'd only given a passing thought to wondering where they were when we'd arrived in Denali. I'd been so focused on the shit-storm going on around me that I'd only half-listed to Tanya's explanation that Kate and Garrett had been traveling. Now that Kate had introduced herself, I remembered them both from our confrontation with the Volturi six years ago.

Without touching me or even looking at me, Nahuel rose shakily to his feet. Without a word, he stalked to Joham's decapitated body and retrieved his father's lifeless head from the ground. He lifted the grisly trophy to eye level and, with a vicious snarl, squeezed it between his palms.

A human head would have popped and spewed brains, blood and gore everywhere. But Joham's already-dead noggin simply disintegrated in Nahuel's hands.

Shocked at his savagery, I dropped back on my haunches and watched while my imprint meticulously crumbled to powder every last fragment of the head. He even stooped down once or twice to retrieve a larger chunk that had fallen to the snow, and then thoroughly crushed those pieces, too.

I knew that rage was only part of his motivation. Even if we never got around to burning Joham's body, with his head utterly destroyed, no one would be able to put the fucker back together ever again.

"Bastard!" Remy shrieked. "Fucking bastard! He shoulda jerked off into his hand instead of puttin' you in the belly of that human whore."

Garrett jerked roughly on the arm he held, forcing it high behind Remy's back. "Manners, sir," he cautioned mildly.

"Fuck you!" Remy continued to rage. "Fuck you all!"

As if he hadn't spoken at all, Nahuel turned to Kate. "Do you carry a lighter?"

She studied him for a moment, as if she didn't trust what he would do if she produced what he was asking for. She glanced at Garrett out of the corner of her eye. He shrugged and nodded. Reaching into her pants pocket, Kate brought out an expensive-looking silver lighter.

"Thank you," Nahuel said calmly, taking the lighter from her outstretched hand.

Scrapes and bruises from the explosion and his tussle with Remy covered his naked body, but in typical Nahuel style, he didn't seem the least concerned by his nudity. He returned to Joham's body and kicked the piles of silvery powder that had been Joham's head until they were mounded near the body. He stepped away, flicked a flame into existence on the lighter, and tossed it onto the dry tinder of his father's remains.

Remy seemed to be running out of steam. Maybe he was finally realizing how very bad his situation was, because when Nahuel approached him, he remained silent.

"How long have you lived?" Nahuel demanded, his voice hard and cold.

Remy blinked confusedly. "What?"

"When were you made, vampire?" Nahuel enunciated clearly. Remy stiffened slightly. Jake had once told me that some vamps considered it an insult to be asked their age.

Remy glowered hatefully. "Nineteen forty-five," he said, acid resentment dripping in his tone.

Nahuel nodded toward the flaming corpse.

"Was he your sire?"

The mind-rapist hesitated, as if he was unsure what Nahuel really wanted to hear and feared my imprint's response if Remy answered wrong.

"No," he finally replied, tightly.

Nahuel nodded, as if satisfied. "Where are the hybrid children?"

Now Remy smirked knowingly, as if Nahuel had just handed him a prize. "Fuck you, half breed."

In a flash, Nahuel's big warm hands were around Remy's icy throat, and his sharp teeth gnashed centimeters in front of the vampire's mangled nose.

"You have only minutes left to exist, vampire," Nahuel growled. "Your only thought at this moment should be how you wish your existence to end: quickly and painlessly, or in agony. Answer me quickly and truthfully, and I will remove your head _before_ I throw you on my sire's bonfire."

Remy cringed and turned the ravaged half of his face toward Nahuel's gleaming teeth.

"Choose not to answer, and I will begin tearing off and burning pieces while you watch," Nahuel continued. "Your head will be the last to go into the flames, and it will be attached to your breathing torso when it does."

His teak eyes narrowed, and a cold, mocking smirk curved his flawless lips. "Can you guess, rapist, what appendage I will remove first?"

Remy's eyes widened. He glanced to Kate first, then Garrett. When he didn't see any sympathy in their eyes, he frantically cast his gaze on me.

"You really gonna let him do this, sweetness?" His voice had taken on a silky, almost flirtatious tone. "With Joham gone, ain't no one else knows more about that pup you're carrying than me—"

He gurgled into silence when Nahuel's fingers tightened around his throat.

"You do not speak to her, filth," Nahuel growled, his low musical voice shaking with rage. "Choose now, or I will choose for you."

Remy began to struggle in earnest against Kate and Garrett's grip. Suddenly, his body went taught, and he screamed loudly. Garrett flinched and cast Kate a reproachful look.

"Damn it, woman, give a man some warning when you're going to do that."

She shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, love. He's getting on my nerves."

I realized she'd used her talent to zap Remy with that painful electric charge she could generate.

"Fucking bitch," Remy wheezed, his scarlet eyes fluttering rapidly.

Garrett rolled his eyes. "You're repeating yourself." He turned his attention to Nahuel.

"Apologies, friend, but until Kate and I find out what's really going on here … and what has happened to the rest of our family … I'm afraid I can't let you end this wretch."

The hushed sound of two sets of footsteps—vampire light and fast—approached through the snow. All eyes moved to the two figures that emerged from the snow that whirled blizzard-like around us.

"Then step aside, revolutionary," Demetri said, approaching our little group. "This one must die for his part in creating an immortal child."

Kate flinched and gasped. Garrett's tall body stiffened, and I remembered Jake saying how deeply scarred the entire race of vampires seemed to be by the long-ago massacre of the immortal children.

"I had nuthin' to do with that!" Remy wailed, pulling frantically against Kate and Garrett's grip. "That was all Joham's doin'."

Felix didn't appear to feel the least bit threatened that two other vamps were technically standing between him and Remy. He marched right up to the struggling vampire and grasped his head in his huge hands. Kate and Garrett immediately dropped Remy's arms and stepped away. They knew better than to argue against a Volturi death sentence, especially one handed down in relation to the creation of a vampire child.

"Wait!" Nahuel shouted. "He can tell us where the hybrid children are being held."

Felix hesitated and glanced at Demetri questioningly.

"Go to hell," Remy said, his voice trembling as badly as his body. If leeches could piss themselves, there would be a puddle of yellow snow under his shaking boots. "Why should I tell you anything? You're just gonna kill me anyway."

Demetri pranced gracefully to Felix's side and studied Remy for a moment. "You are probably right to think the half-breed …" He nodded toward Nahuel. "… would not be capable of torturing you."

He slowly circled around Remy until he was standing behind the taller vampire. He rose on his toes, brought his face close to Remy's unmarred cheek and whispered in his ear. "I'm sure your coven master told you all about the Volturi guard. Did he mention my colleague Jane and what she can do?"

Remy's convulsive shiver said clearly that Joham had told him all about Cruella de Vamp.

Demetri chuckled.

"I see that you are familiar with her abilities," he said, resuming his slow circuit around Remy. "She is not with us at the moment because her brother, Alec, was burned severely in your attack on the Denali coven's house. She is caring for him right now, but I'm sure she would be willing to assist in … _interviewing_ you … should it become necessary."

He completed his stroll and now stood beside Felix again. "Will that be necessary?"

His head still clamped between Felix's huge ham hocks, Remy's eyes rolled wildly. The shitbag was too scared to even grab Felix's wrists, too petrified to struggle at all. He was fucked and he knew it, and no part of me felt even a smidge sorry for him.

"Best cut your losses, friend," Garrett muttered behind him.

Remy shivered in Felix's grasp for a few moments more, before finally heaving a ragged breath.

"Ivvavik," he muttered.

If he meant where I thought, he might as well have said the dark side of the moon. From the disgusted expression on Garrett's face, he was thinking the same thing.

Demetri caught Garrett's look. "You know of this place?"

"Yes," Garrett replied, shaking his head. "It's a national park in the northern reaches of Canada. About as far north as you can go before you run out of land and light. It's nearly ten thousand square miles of wilderness. It could take a century to find anything hidden there."

The only hope we might have—and the only reason I knew about the place—was that Jacob had been through the park six years ago when he wolfed out and went nuts over Bella's decision to marry—and become—a leech. Of course, being in wolf form, I couldn't exactly share that information with the group, and I wasn't eager to phase while the mind-molester was still alive and the Volturi present.

Felix shook the now-whimpering Remy roughly. "Perhaps we should keep him alive a bit longer. He might be useful in finding the children."

"We can manage without him," Nahuel snarled. "If you are reticent, Volturi, I would be happy to dispatch him in your stead."

Demetri tittered as if Nahuel had just recited a naughty limerick.

"That won't be necessary," he chuckled. "We probably have as much help from him as we are likely to get, and I'm sure Aro would not approve of one with this remote viewing ability using it so carelessly."

What he meant was that Aro wouldn't want Remy using his abilities unless it was on the Volturi's behalf, and since that didn't seem likely to happen, better to kill the son of a bitch instead. While the reasoning was self-serving, I couldn't argue against the outcome. I wanted Remy dead more than anyone.

Demetri cast a dismissive glance at Remy before pivoting on his toes in the snow and heading back in the direction of the house. "Felix, take care of that, please," he called over his shoulder.

Remy's terrified shriek squelched off abruptly, and for the second time that night, I watched Felix pop the head off another vamp. Obviously, he'd had a lot of practice, because the fucker was really good at it. He tossed bayou boy's parts on top of Joham's smoldering remains, and the whole fetid pile flared up. Multi-hued flames licked the dark sky, melting the snow in a wide circle around the burning mound.

_It's over. Holy shit. It's really over._

Relief took my legs out from under me as efficiently as a blow behind the knees, and my furry ass hit the cold, wet snow with a loud splat. No one spared me a glance.

Felix turned to Nahuel with a lupine smile.

"Well met, half-breed," he said, his voice generous and affable. "The Volturi will remember what you and your werewolf mate have done here tonight."

Nahuel nodded calmly, as if he'd just received a kind compliment from a colleague, rather than a veiled threat from an immortal sociopath. "Thank you for your assistance," he said. "Do you know what transpired at the Denali house and how our friends fared?"

Felix tipped his head to one side, considering Nahuel's request. Finally, he grinned widely. "Alec was injured. One of your number died, although I'm unsure of the circumstances."

The cold beneath me surged up from the frozen ground, crackled along my spine and down my ribs, and burrowed straight through muscle to frost my heart.

"Who?" Kate gasped.

Felix shrugged. "Can't say. I wasn't really paying attention."

I squeezed my eyes shut against the chill of Felix's indifference and turned my vision inward, searching for the snapped tendrils that had connected me to Jacob and my pack brothers. It was difficult to perceive anything around the throbbing, painful cable that bound my soul to Nahuel's. I'd made such a fucking mess of things that our souls were bleeding on both ends of the connection. I couldn't do anything about that right now, so I dug deeper. Found the ragged stumps of those precious tendrils and seized onto them for all I was worth.

_Jake! Damn you, let me back in. Do you hear me Jacob Black? I want back into my pack. Let me in!_

What if Jake was the one who had died? Would the silence last forever?

A spark flared to life on the far edge of my awareness. I lunged toward it.

_Jacob! I choose you. I choose to follow my Alpha. Let me back in!_

And like everything else tonight that I'd thought would be so hard, reconnecting with my Alpha and my pack turned out to be easy. As easy, in fact, as simply deciding to do it.

A cacophony of voices crashed into my silent head, obliterating my separateness, and for a split second I basked in the thrill of _belonging_ again—even if it was to a bunch of muscle-bound morons.

Then the pain slammed into me, bearing my joy down into an abyss of darkness and loss.

I was drowning in agony and isolation. _Alone_. So fucking alone and lost there was no way I could ever find myself again, no matter how loudly my pack brothers begged me to come back to them. The pain in my mind was overwhelming, and if I stayed inside my head, I was going to die of it.

I took the only escape available to me. I phased.

I was already screaming when my vocal chords resumed their ability to produce human sounds.

"Seth!" I shrieked, flopping full-length on the ground. My muscles cramped tightly enough to snap bone. I could almost imagine I heard them crunch over the sound of my screams.

Nahuel's terrified face hovered above me in the swimming, screeching darkness, and I knew he'd lifted me from the ground. Knew he cradled me in his arms, but I couldn't feel his touch. Couldn't feel anything but the brutal despair and agony.

"Seth!" I screamed again.

Kate and Garrett's faces manifested from the black haze behind Nahuel's shoulders.

"Oh fuck." Garrett's voice. "Her brother?"

"Yes!" Nahuel, panicked. "Leah! What is it? What about Seth? Is he—"

"Not dead."

It was all I could get out. I kept repeating it like a mantra, like those words were the only hope I had of lighting the darkness.

"Not dead. Not dead."

_No,_ the wolf bitch conceded. _Not dead. Yet._

The school girl whispered hysterically. _No, but he wants to be._

The darkness surged up from behind my imprint's shoulders and spilled down over his head, shrouding his beautiful face. It poured over me and dragged me down into oblivion.

* * *

><p><em><strong>End note:<strong> I know, I know. Another cliffie. Trust me, though, everything will work itself out in the end. We have another two or three chapters and then an epilogue. I promise that only ONE of the remaining chapters will end with a cliff-hanger - and it WON'T be the epilogue!_


	40. My Death

_**A/N:** Tissue alert! And please, before you call for my painful demise, remember I've always promised an HEA. Trust me._

_MunkeeRajah and Evelyn-Shaye are still keeping me sane. I love them more than that Thor guy in his sleeveless, tight costume. (Wipes drool from mouth.)  
><em>

_Twilight is the brainchild and intellectual property of Stephenie Meyer. I just like to think about all the fun stuff she could be doing with the characters.  
><em>

* * *

><p>Chapter 40 – My Death<p>

**Leah POV**

I careened through endless, narrow corridors of dark gray walls. Pounded around corner after turn after bend, hunting for a way out. But no doors broke the interminable expanse of walls.

How could there be no goddamn doors? Who builds a hallway without an exit?

Every hundred or so heartbeats, I stumbled past another fitfully sputtering candle mounted shoulder high in wall sconces. They were so far apart that their weak, pale circles of light never approached each other between prolonged stretches of darkness. The air in the hallway was damp, and the stone beneath my bare feet so cold it made my skin crack.

I wasn't just trying to escape the corridor. I was trying to get away from the damn screaming. It was deafening. Maddening. So shrill it was liquefying my brain.

Who the hell was screaming? _What_ were they screaming?

After hours of running, I was exhausted. I slowed beneath a half-melted candle, bowed forward, hands propped on my knees, and gasped for air. Maybe if I could just make out what the psycho was screaming, I could figure out what to do. Where to go.

I forced myself to listen to the piercing, panicked screams. I'd thought they were meaningless noise, but as I listened, a single word resolved out of the dissonance.

"Seth!"

My stomach muscles spasmed, jerked my body upright and slammed me against a granite chest. Icy arms wrapped around me, stilling my involuntary thrashing. A putrid smell enfolded me along with those arms, but instead of feeling revulsion, I found the stench oddly reassuring.

"Leah, you're alright."

The voice was gentle, soothing, familiar. As warm and comforting as the arms were hard and cold.

"You're safe. The baby is fine."

Relief pulsed through my veins. I trusted that voice, and the knowledge that my baby was alright gave me the strength to force my eyes open.

Carlisle's golden eyes were full of concern, but his handsome face was calmly composed. I nodded gratefully against his chest and clutched his shoulders, digging my nails into his unyielding muscles.

I was on a bed in a dimly lit, unfamiliar room that was sparsely yet tastefully decorated. My mind whirled in a hundred directions.

Were we back in whatever was left of the Denali house? Was my baby really alright? Where was Nahuel? Why hadn't he been the one to hold me when I woke from my nightmare?

Where was my brother? What had happened to him?

"Seth," I gasped. "Where is he?"

The doc studied me passively for a moment, before gently easing me backward and out of his arms. I gripped his sleeves, refusing to let go.

"Seth is resting," Carlisle said, simply, and it all came crashing down on me.

Killing Joham. Remy's destruction. Felix's news that someone had died. Making contact with Jake and the pack. Drowning in Seth's desolation. In his desire to die.

Only one thing could throw my happy-go-lucky brother into such deep despair.

"Anjali," I whimpered.

Carlisle stiffened and turned his face from me slightly.

No. Not _from_ me. Toward someone else. Someone who was sitting in the corner of the room. Whose luscious scent had been masked by my proximity to Carlisle's pungent vampire aroma.

"Dead."

Nahuel's voice was as flat and lifeless as the word itself.

Carlisle stood and stepped away from the bed, and now I could see that my imprint sat motionless in an old wooden rocking chair in the corner of the room furthest from the bed. He'd dressed in faded jeans and a plaid flannel shirt—not Cullen hand-me-downs, that was for sure. He looked like the world's hottest lumberjack, and my heart soared to see that he was safe and whole. When I met his teak eyes, the bleak emptiness I saw there sent me crashing back to earth.

"What happened?" I choked out, my hand involuntarily stretching toward him over the sheet that covered my legs.

"She put herself between Seth and an attacker," Nahuel replied in that same hollow tone. "It was unnecessary. Seth is more than capable of protecting himself. But she did not see that. Or perhaps she thought she had something to prove, and so she sacrificed herself."

Maybe I should have felt guilty that I'd judged Anjali so harshly for the lies she'd told, since I'd shoveled enough of my own. Maybe I should have felt remorseful that my obvious condemnation had possibly contributed to her recklessness. I probably should have felt all that—maybe on some level I even did— but the dominant emotion scorching through my brain was anger.

As if she hadn't fucked up Seth's life enough, Anjali had done the one thing that was guaranteed to destroy him completely—get herself killed.

I knew there was a lot more to whatever happened than the little Nahuel had just said. But the details didn't really matter. My brother's imprint was dead, and it would take a miracle—and every ounce of combined willpower my pack mates and I had—to ensure that Seth didn't follow her.

"Where is he? I want to see him."

"He is unconscious." Nahuel elaborated on Carlisle's explanation. "Doctor Cullen administered a sedative. Edward and Jacob are watching over him."

His barren eyes never left mine, and that damned invisible cable twitched like a snake that had been run over by an eighteen-wheeler. The trickle of agony that had been slowly leaking from its anchor point in my chest swelled to a rivulet.

My lips moved without my conscious direction.

"I'm so sorry, baby," I whispered.

Fury erupted across his hollowed face, filling the echoing emptiness of his eyes.

"For what?" He growled through tightly clenched teeth. "For my sister's death? For lying to me? For killing me slowly by degrees as I watch _you_ die?"

The ornate arms of the chair creaked beneath the crushing grip of his long fingers, and he rocked forward, then back, as if he were struggling to keep himself in his seat. There was probably no right thing for me to say that would head off the explosion building inside him, but at least I could tell him what was in my heart.

"For everything," I said, striving to keep the quiver out of my voice. "I'm sorry for everything. Especially for lying to you. But I'm _not_ going to die."

The muscles in his strong jaw flexed, and he swallowed convulsively.

"No, you are not," he agreed, his voice hard and cold. His eyes shot to Carlisle, who'd been quietly observing our exchange.

"Remove it from her."

Carlisle's perfect lips dropped open, and his eyes widened.

"I beg your pardon?" Even through his shock, his politeness never failed.

"Remove it," Nahuel repeated. "The …" His mouth worked as if he were trying to chew something tough and foul-tasting until he practically spat the word out. "… _fetus_. Remove it from her body before it kills her."

Carlisle's eyes widened even further, and remorse poured over his ivory features. He looked at me apologetically. "We haven't discussed that option, but of course, if that's what Leah wants—"

I gaped at him, trying to figure out why he looked guilty. Was it because he hadn't offered me termination of my pregnancy before Nahuel demanded it? He was right: we hadn't discussed it. He hadn't even brought it up, and I'd thought that was because he understood my feelings. After that incredible moment we'd shared the first time we heard the baby's heartbeat, how could Carlisle think I'd ever consider it?

"I won't do that," I said firmly, my eyes flitting between my imprint and my doctor. "I don't want to discuss it."

Carlisle's smile was … relieved? And he turned back to Nahuel.

"As long as Leah is comfortable with it, perhaps I can answer any questions you might have about her pregnancy."

Nahuel's rocker tipped forward again, and the already-strained arms splintered beneath his fingers. His bent legs trembled with his effort to stay in the chair.

"Questions?" he snarled. "What is there to question? She is not in her right mind, and I will not allow her to sacrifice her life for this monster. Get it out of her. Now!"

Carlisle put himself between my imprint and me with a single step. He folded his arms across his chest, and though I couldn't see his face, the taught line of his shoulders said everything. I'd never even seen the doc annoyed before; now we were being treated to his version of outraged.

"I believe Leah has made her choice clear," he said, his voice sharp, precise and incensed. "I understand this has been a shock for you, but this decision is Leah's and no one else's."

Nahuel leapt from his chair. "She will die!" he roared, lunging forward until he was nose to nose with Carlisle. "Do you wish that? Better, then, that I drain her myself! At least her death will be quick and painless."

I gasped, appalled that he could even make the suggestion, even though I was sure he didn't really mean it. And I was astounded that Carlisle would dignify it with a response, but he looked as if he intended to.

Like a long-distance trucker with a kick-ass GPS, I could see where this out-of-control mess was heading, but I felt powerless to divert it. Grief and guilt paralyzed me. Where was that sweet liberating warmth when I needed it? The ball of ice in my stomach held me pinned in the bed.

"The pack would kill you in retaliation," Carlisle growled.

"Good! I do not wish to walk this world without her. They will be doing me a kindness."

The bedroom door crashed open.

Bella was the last person I'd have expected to see enter the room, with Jacob on her heels. She was practically a foot shorter than her father-in-law, but Bella stepped fearlessly in front of him at the same moment Jacob's big hand descended on Nahuel's trembling shoulder. My imprint's furious eyes snapped away from Carlisle to land on Jake's worried face. He struggled visibly to control himself.

"Carlisle, this is not helping." Bella's calm voice chimed quietly. "Leah and Nahuel need to talk. If they have any questions, they'll come to you."

She laid her hand on Carlisle's shoulder. "Come on. Let them talk."

Carlisle continued to glare at my imprint over Bella's head. "Perhaps Nahuel should take a few minutes to calm himself before he engages in this discussion with Leah."

A low growl rumbled from Nahuel's chest. Jake shook his shoulder gently.

"You need to calm down, man," my Alpha said quietly. "Can you do that? Otherwise, I can't leave you here alone with her."

Nahuel's storm-filled eyes held Jacob's calm, reassuring gaze as if he could siphon some of Jake's composure for himself. After several deep breaths, he nodded. He took a step backward toward his broken chair, tilted his head to one side and regarded Carlisle from the corner of his eye.

"My apologies, Doctor Cullen," he murmured in a voice that clearly said he was striving for calm but hadn't quite made it there. "I respect your concern for Leah. You have my word that I would never intentionally harm her."

Carlisle was no dope, and I'm sure he caught the subtext of Nahuel's promise—that my imprint thought he had _unintentionally_ hurt me already by knocking me up. But whatever he saw in my vamp-boy's eyes seemed to satisfy him.

"I'm sure you'll have questions for me," he said quietly. "I'll be close by if you need me."

He preceded Bella and Jake out the door without a backward glance. Jacob gave me an encouraging smile, stepped from the room, and gently closed the door behind him.

Nahuel vibrated in place for a moment, as if he couldn't decide where he wanted most to be—with me on the bed or on the other side of the room. Maybe on the other side of the planet. Finally, he took two more backward steps, sank gracefully into the rocking chair and glared at me.

The rotation of the earth ground to a slow, groaning halt. The temperature in the room rose in direct correlation to the angry heat in Nahuel's beautiful eyes. My breath clotted in my throat.

Should I say something? Remain silent until he spoke? Look away? Continue to meet his furious stare? What would piss him off the least? Indecision froze me in place.

Nahuel found his voice first, and there was nothing surprising about his words or the venom laced through them.

"You lied to me."

No point at all in arguing with that, because I'd already admitted to it. But maybe I could explain the reasons behind my lies. Hell, I had to at least try.

Unwelcome memories welled up of Nahuel's words to me in that tent in the forest, right after Anjali's deceptions had been exposed. He'd said that Seth had no choice but to find a way to forgive his imprint and rebuild his trust in her, and he'd been right. While that point was now moot for my brother—I fought down a wave of anguish at the thought—it definitely applied to where I stood at this moment.

I drew a deep breath and held it a heartbeat before expelling it forcefully.

"Yes," I said cautiously. "But I had good reasons—"

"Is that what Sue taught you? That there is ever a good reason to lie to one who loves you?" He shook his head, his lips twisted in a derisive sneer. "I _know_ she did not." Then, as if it had just occurred to him: "She does not know, either, does she?"

"No. I didn't tell anyone because I was protecting you," I tried again. "You were already dealing with so much between your father and your sister that I didn't want to—"

"When?" He interrupted me ruthlessly again.

I shook my head, confused. "What do you mean?"

He clenched his jaw, and I could hear the grinding of his sharp, white teeth from across the room.

"When did the lies begin?" he clarified, his voice trembling with barely leashed fury. "Did you lie to me from the start? The very first time in your room, when we nearly made love and you told me you could not conceive … were you lying then?"

"No!" I protested, horrified that he would think I'd misled him all along.

_Idiot,_ the wolf-bitch whispered. _Of course he thinks that. Why WOULDN'T he think that?_

"Were you so desperate for physical affection that you willingly took this risk?" His voice dropped to an agonized whisper. "Had you only been honest with me, I would have done anything to protect you from this. Anything! I would have found a way to love you without risking _this_."

I took another deep breath and steadied myself. I needed to be closer to him. He was angry at me—I got that—but I didn't see why that meant he had to withhold the physical proximity that would give us both some comfort. I peeped beneath the sheet that covered me and felt relieved that I was wearing pajamas. They were fugly flannel numbers, but at least I was clothed and didn't have to contend with the distraction my nudity would have been for both of us.

I threw off the sheet and stood cautiously. You'd think after all I'd been through in the past few hours—just how long had I been unconscious?—that I'd feel weak and shaky. Instead, I felt physically strong. My heart was tripping at break-neck speed, and my stomach was tumbling along after it, but all things considered, my condition seemed pretty damn good. I could believe Carlisle's reassurance that my baby was fine, and that thought made me feel braver.

I managed to take all of two steps before Nahuel bared his teeth and snarled at me.

"Do not come near me," he growled. "Do not think to distract me with your touch."

I flinched and my stomach caved backward toward my spine as if he'd just kicked me in the gut.

"Baby, I'm not trying to distract you—"

"Do not call me that!" he thundered so loudly that I took a startled step back toward the bed. "Tell me! Tell me when the lies began!"

The school-girl was cowering in her dark corner, head buried in her arms, wetting her panties. For one moment—probably the weakest of my life—I considered joining her. In the next instant, I remembered who I was.

I was a Clearwater. I was a strong and powerful defender of my tribe, my pack and my family. I was the only female of my kind. I was the mate of the world's only male vampire-human hybrid. I was about to be a mother.

And I refused to allow any of that to be taken from me, especially not by Nahuel's rage and fear.

I squared my shoulders and leveled my gaze on him.

"I found out five days ago that I'm pregnant. A few years back, I asked Carlisle to run some tests," I said. "When I began phasing, my menstrual cycle stopped. I wanted to know why, and what it meant for my chances of ever becoming a mother."

I paused, waiting for the familiar spike of painful regret that had always accompanied thoughts of my infertility. When it didn't show, I plunged forward.

"Carlisle couldn't explain the reasons for the changes in my body, but because I had no cycle, we thought I'd never be able to get pregnant. I was alone, expected to _always_ be alone, so I just accepted my infertility."

I crossed my palms low over my abdomen and dropped my gaze to my spread fingers.

"Then you came along, and maybe … because you're my imprint … maybe my body was _waiting_ for you, and everything started working again." I hesitated, fighting the silly grin that was threatening to dawn on my face because I knew it would infuriate him. I couldn't help it and the smile won.

"Until it happened, I had no idea I could conceive. I spent six years believing it was impossible … hopeless."

Nahuel made a gagging sound that drew my eyes back to him.

"You _hoped_ for this?" He was appalled, as if what I'd said was beyond any sane explanation. His voice rose with each word until it broke on the ending breath of his shout. "Are you mad? Do you _want_ to die a bloody, horrible death?"

"I'm not going to die, Nahuel!" I barked, exasperated that we kept coming back to this. "I'm not like your mother. I'm a werewolf, not a fragile, ordinary human woman, and this baby is only one-quarter vampire. It's three-quarters _human_. It's not going to kill me. I'm going to be just fine."

He'd begun shaking his head frantically with my first word, rejecting my defense without really listening. He buried his face in his hands and began rocking rapidly in the chair.

"No, no, no, no!" he wailed. "You will die. You cannot want this. _You will die!_ How am I to endure it?"

He'd told me to stay away from him, but fuck that. I raced across the room, dropped to my knees in front of him and grabbed his wrists, dragging his hands away from his face. His pupils were dilated, his mouth hung open, and he breathed in labored, shallow pants. He was riding a greased rail straight into a full-scale meltdown.

My heart cracked at the agony burning in his eyes.

"Please, ñi piuque," he begged raggedly. "Please let Carlisle save you. I do not want this thing. I only want you. Without you, there is nothing. Please—" His voice broke, and the inadequate sliver of composure he'd been holding onto shattered before my eyes.

He bowed his head and sobbed wretchedly.

I let go of his wrists, seized his shoulders and shook as hard as I could.

"Look at me, Nahuel!" He slowly, reluctantly lifted his head, and his wet eyes were barren and hopeless.

"I am _six weeks_ pregnant," I said, enunciating clearly.

He heaved a great gasp and froze. Confusion clouded his pain-brightened eyes. My hands slid up the column of his neck until I cradled his beautiful, terrified face.

"My pregnancy has already lasted as long as Bella's," I said, driving home the point he just _had_ to understand. "Longer than your mother's. Carlisle thinks it will be another six months before the baby is full term."

Wonder and fear fought for dominance in his lush voice. "How can this be?" I could see it in his eyes: he _wanted_ desperately to believe me.

"I'm _healthy_. Our baby is healthy. We are going to be fine," I said firmly. "Even if the worst happens, and our baby comes into the world the way you did, I'll be able to survive. I'll be able to heal."

He was breathing like a steam engine that was low on coal. He stared at me for long, torturously silent moments. Slowly, he covered my hands with his and removed them from his face. Pushing them away, he slid backward in the chair. His gaze dropped from mine, and he turned his face away from me.

"How am I to believe you?"

There was no accusation in his voice, but I would have preferred it to the despondency I heard. "You want this so badly, you are willing to lie for it."

His fingers rested on top of his knees now, flexing and releasing repeatedly. As I watched, one leg began to bounce rapidly, as if he had to move _something_ or he'd explode.

"_I_ have never lied to _you_." His golden eyes flashed to mine, and now I saw the reproach I'd been expecting. "Yet you lie to me so easily. How am I ever to trust you again?"

I shook my head with a sad smile. "You have to," I said quietly. "You said it yourself. As imprints, we have to find a way to trust each other or we'll be miserable for eternity."

He laughed, a short, harsh bark of contempt. "I am fucked either way, am I not?"

I flinched at the uncharacteristic obscenity and the cynicism it conveyed.

"You are either lying to me again and will die horribly when it is time for that … _thing_ … to be born, and I will be alone, or …" His eyes grew damp again before dropping away from mine. "… if through some miracle you survive—"

His voice fell to a mournful whisper. "You already love it more than me. Already you see my love is not enough … _I_ am not enough."

He'd bewildered me again. "What are you talking about?" I demanded. "What do you mean you're not enough?"

He began digging viciously at his cuticle—his tell for when he was ashamed and didn't want to admit to it, or confess why he felt shame.

"What kind of father could I be?" He shook his head, distracted from my question by his own rapid descent into total self-loathing. "There is nothing in me that could benefit a child."

I ground my teeth together. I'd dragged him out of this trough more than once in the past few months, and I'd do it again if he needed it, but honestly, I was getting tired of covering this same terrain.

Suddenly, his eyes flashed with anger and accusation, and he glared at me again.

"What is wrong with _you_ that you would wish to bear my offspring knowing what my own father was? What _I_ am?"

No one in my life had ever been able to whip my emotions in circles like Nahuel, and in the past few minutes, he'd hauled me through fear and guilt to remorse and resolve. Now, he'd tripped me straight into pissed off. I rose up higher on my knees, seized him by his ears and yanked his mouth down to mine.

He stiffened in surprise and clamped his fingers around my wrists, but he didn't pull my hands away. He trembled as if he were struggling with himself, instead of with me. When I gently but insistently worked my tongue against the tight line of lips, he groaned and shivered … and his resistance evaporated.

My kiss was as rough and demanding as he had been all those months ago on the beach at La Push. His was as desperate and greedy as I'd felt when he'd left me alone for three days after Esme's barbecue. I was a tongue-thrust away from dragging him down on the floor and reminding him that no matter how angry he was with me, he'd never be able to stay away for long.

But there were a few things I needed to say to him first. I unsealed our mouths and gasped against his lips.

"I'll tell you what I _know_, Nahuel," I rasped, gulping his sweet breath into my tight chest. "I know you're mine and I'm yours. I know your fucking father is _dead_, and the only thing that can hurt us now is _us_. The only thing standing in the way of our happily ever after is _you_ holding on to this stupid idea that you're worthless and unlovable and anything less than totally perfect for me."

Leaving his lips, I kissed each one of the tears that poured down his handsome face, and the salty-sweetness tasted like forgiveness. Or apology. Maybe both.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," I whispered, stroking my fingers through his short hair. His hands settled on my waist. "I'm sorry I frightened you, and I'm sorry I lied to you."

I gripped his hair and pulled, until his eyes leveled with mine.

"I am _not_ sorry about this baby, and I'm not afraid of the future. I'm happy. More than I ever imagined I could be. _You_ make me happy."

I drew a shuddering breath and held his liquid eyes.

"Can you be happy with me?"

His lids fluttered closed, and he bowed his head.

Time held its breath.

When his eyes opened again, piercing pain bloomed in my chest, dragging against the latch point of that invisible cable. His gaze was guarded and wary. I hadn't really expected to see joy on his face, but I'd at least hoped for a hint of acceptance.

"I do not know," he said, his voice more controlled than it had been throughout the whole drama. "I know that I love you, but I do not know what to do. I do not think I can live with this fear. It is worse than anything else I have experienced."

I swallowed hard.

_Idiot!_ The wolf-bitch sneered. _Did you really think you could solve everything with some spit-swapping and sweet words? It's going to take more than that to fix what you've fucked up._

At least he was talking to me in a normal tone. He wasn't falling apart anymore. Surely that was progress. I allowed myself to feel a feather-touch of hope, but his next words splintered my aching heart.

"Would you at least consider aborting the pregnancy? Could we discuss it?"

I tried to keep my pain and disappointment out of my voice.

"No, I could never do that," I said, watching his eyes dim further at the steel in my voice. "Will you at least talk to Carlisle? Maybe you'll feel better about everything if he explains how great I'm doing."

I saw the last brick of that damned wall go up before he dropped his eyes and rocked backward in the chair. He nodded reluctantly.

"I will speak with Carlisle because you ask it," he said quietly. "I can promise nothing more."

I blinked away the burning behind my eyes and nodded my agreement.

"I would like some time alone to think," he said distantly. "And you should go to your brother now. He is strong, but he needs you."

I'd felt physically perfect when I first woke in this room—and I still didn't know where the hell I was—but now as I rose from the floor in front of Nahuel, my bones ached and my muscles were stiff. I felt old.

I had no clothes to put on, but the flannel PJs were modest enough, so I moved toward the door. When I reached it, I hesitated with my hand on the knob. I couldn't help myself; I turned to look at him.

"I love you."

He probably didn't want to hear that right now, but I couldn't resist the intense need to say it out loud. He regarded me without expression.

"I know," he replied flatly.

When it was clear he wouldn't say anything more, I opened the door, stepped through it and closed it quietly behind me. The door was at one end of a short hallway. Clearly, this was not the Denali mansion because nothing in that monstrosity would be on such a small scale. At the other end of the hallway, a staircase led down. Jacob waited for me there, leaning against the wall, arms folded over his massive chest. He uncrossed his arms and straightened as I approached.

I stopped in front of him. His arms twitched as if he wanted to hug me but knew better than to actually do it. Still, my Alpha had other ways of touching me.

He was doing that fucking Hostess cupcake thing with his eyes again—soft, warm, comforting and so sweet it would make my fillings ache if I'd had any. Normally, it would also make me want to punch his lights out, but since I was still wrestling with guilt over the last time I'd sucker-punched Jacob, I shoved both hands in the pockets of my pajama pants.

Besides, I actually felt like I _needed_ his sympathy right now.

He nodded toward the room I'd just vacated. "He'll come around," he said softly. "He just needs some time."

"Hope you're right," I mumbled around the bowling ball that nestled at the base of my throat.

"I always am," he replied confidently. Then, because he seemed to know I needed to hear it: "And congratulations. I'm really happy for you. You're going to be an awesome mom."

_Maybe I should rethink that hug. _

SSW/SSW/SSW

For most of our lives, Seth had been my too-perfect, perfectly happy kid brother: the Clearwater child who never got into trouble, who never had a mean word to say about anyone, whom everyone loved, whose ups seemed so much higher than mine, and who let life's downs roll off his shoulders like raindrops off a duck's back.

Even when he drew the same weird-ass genetic card I'd been dealt and started phasing into a huge, hairy mutt, he took it in stride. Mother Nature seemed to reward his good humor by making him the second largest and strongest wolf in our pack, right behind Jacob.

I'd always thought the twerp lived a totally charmed life.

Now, I thought fate was taking payment out of his hide in spades.

At Jake's request, Carlisle had dosed Seth with enough tranqs to keep a herd of hippos sedated for a month. Then they'd put him in the bedroom of this guest house on the outskirts of the Denali compound and waited to see if he'd be more sane when he came to than he had been when he ran into the wreckage of the Denali main house looking for an active fire to jump into.

I'd phased out of his head just before his attempted suicide, and when my pack brothers had been holding him back from self-immolation, I was passed out naked in the snow. Nahuel had carried me back to the mansion and, after Carlisle checked me out, put me in another bedroom. I'd snored there for a couple of hours before waking up to the scene with my imprint.

The Clearwater kids had done a bang-up job of capping the night's epic adventure with even more drama.

Now I sat beside Seth's bed, held his huge hand in both of mine, and prayed that when he opened his eyes, brilliance would land on my shoulder and I'd think of something—_any_ fucking thing—I could say that would make him want to stay alive.

His Sasquatch-sized feet hung off the end of the bed, and his broad shoulders covered the mattress from side to side. Seth was a foot taller than me and fifty pounds heavier, and had been for more than a year. Yet when I looked at him now, I only saw the heart-broken, sad little boy he'd been the night our father died.

Jacob sat on the other side of the bed with Edward behind him. My least-favorite Cullen was there to see if he could pick up anything helpful from the mess in Seth's subconscious. At least that was the official excuse. I knew it was really because Edward considered Seth to be his brother, too.

But then, who _didn't_ feel that way about Seth?

As we kept vigil, we talked, with Jake and Edward filling in the parts of the night's dramatics that I didn't know.

Joham had attacked the house, using—of all things—rocket launchers to punch holes in the structure and take everyone by surprise. Seriously, what self-respecting vamp used pyrotechnics?

The Volturi arrived back at exactly the moment the first rockets hit the house. Alec got caught in one of the blasts and caught fire. Emmett and Jasper used fire extinguishers on the screaming pussy—"Why the hell did you do that?" I'd asked. "I wouldn't have _pissed_ on him to put him out." —seconds before Joham's powers paralyzed everyone in the house.

A handful of Joham's lackeys rounded up everyone in the house and stood guard over them while Joham and Remy went after Nahuel and me. The fight broke out again when I attacked Joham and interrupted his control over everyone.

Finally, just when it seemed the fight was won, Anjali threw herself in front of a blood-crazed newborn that had set its sights on Seth. The newborn tore through her like a fist through wet toilet paper.

"I still don't understand how you got the drop on Joham," Jake said, keeping his voice low, as if Seth were a napping toddler he didn't want to wake.

"I don't either," I replied, shaking my head. "Something happened. I can't explain it, but it was like this wave of power … or something … from somewhere."

The whole time we'd been talking, Edward had been eyeing me like I was a two-headed toad he'd caught driving his Volvo.

"I may have a theory about that," he offered. "I'd need to ask you to meet with Eleazar to be sure, but I suspect your baby had something to do with breaking Joham's hold."

It would have been hard to guess which of us looked more stupidly shocked by Edward's statement—Jake or me. I opened my mouth to ask what the hell he meant, but my Alpha beat me to it.

"What are you talking about?"

"I've noticed for several days now that your thoughts have been muffled," Edward said with a nod in my direction. "I found it curious, but really, I had other things on my mind, so I didn't give it that much thought."

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, not thrilled with the idea of Edward attempting to listen in to what went on in my head. I mean, I knew he _could_ do it, but I usually tried to not think about if he actually _was_ doing it. Could he tell what I was thinking right now?

_Edward, can you hear me? I want to lick your whole body from the tips of your sparkly toes to the top of your sex-hair-covered head._

"Your thoughts are completely silent now," he continued, raising an eyebrow at me. "From the expression on your face, I'd guess that you're thinking something outrageous just to test me, so I'm rather glad I can't hear you."

"So, what are you saying?" Jake demanded. "That Leah's baby is some kind of shield, like Bella?"

"I can't be sure," Edward replied, shaking his head. "That's why I think Leah should meet with Eleazar. He has a talent for reading and identifying the abilities of others."

Jake turned back to me. "How about it? Want to see if Eleazar can get a read on the baby?"

I shrugged. While it would be nice to know what had happened to me in that bombed-out bedroom, whether or not my baby was some kind of super fetus wouldn't make a difference in the scheme of things. I was having her—or him, although I was pretty sure it was "her"—and I would love her, talent or no talent.

"Sure," I said noncommittally. "After Seth wakes up and he's okay. Maybe then."

" 'Maybe then,' what?"

The question from the bed surprised us all. Some super-powered guardian trio we were. None of us had even noticed Seth waking up.

I'd never heard his voice so raw and ragged.

"Seth!"

I launched myself onto the bed, threw my arms around him and burst into tears. His huge meaty arms closed around me immediately.

"You stupid jerk!" I blubbered. "If you ever try to kill yourself again, I will kick your ass six ways from Sunday. I'll lock you out of the kitchen forever. I'll tell Mom!"

Seth was too weak and destroyed to laugh, but there was still a hint of humor in his voice.

"Jeez, Lee-lee," he muttered. "Are you being such an emotional bitch because you're knocked up?"

I levered out of his arms and gave him the stink eye.

"You caught that, huh?"

Beside the bed, Jake snorted like a flatulent rhino, and amazingly, Seth managed a smile.

"As soon as you came barreling back through the pack's mental door, everyone knew about your bun," Jake said, gesturing in the general direction of my stomach.

I cringed. "Really?" I squeaked. "Everyone? Even Paul?"

Seth and Jake nodded in tandem. I slugged my brother in the shoulder.

"You knew I was pregnant, and you still tried to off yourself?" I growled. "What the fuck, Seth? What were you thinking?"

Tears immediately filled Seth's huge dark eyes and spilled down his cheeks. I felt like I'd just been caught pulling the wings off a butterfly.

"Shit, Seth, I'm sorry. Please don't cry." I mopped at his wet face with a corner of the bed sheet. "We'll get you through this, baby boy. Everything's gonna be okay."

Seth sobbed messily, blowing a wad of snot and spit onto the front of my PJs. "I don't see how," he whispered brokenly. "It hurts so damned much."

Stricken, I turned to Jacob. He looked as much at a loss as I felt. What could either of us say? We both knew the power of the imprinting bond. Neither of us could imagine living through the loss of our imprints, but here we were, asking Seth to do exactly that.

I held Seth's hand in mine and used the other to gently stroke his arm repeatedly. After a few minutes of my half-assed soothing, his sobbing quieted. My brother scrubbed a shaking hand over his face and through his rumpled hair. He looked tired, suddenly, and a hundred years older than me.

"Don't worry, guys," he finally said, his voice full of resignation. "I lost it for a little while, there, but I promise I won't try anything like … _that_ … again."

His dark eyes rolled from Jake to Edward to me. "Killing myself would be really selfish, I know that. I don't want to hurt you guys like that."

Edward suddenly found the foot of Seth's bed to be fascinating, and Jake coughed behind his hand. My Alpha's eyes were suspiciously moist. I didn't need Edward's talents to know they were both thinking the same thing I was: who else besides my baby brother could think about someone else's pain while going through the loss of his mate?

I squeezed his hand. "I love you, Seth," I said softly.

His eyes widened, and a corner of his mouth actually curled upward. It was probably as close to a smile as we'd get out of him for a good, long while, so I was thrilled to see it now.

"Love you, too, sis," he replied.

Jake leaned down over the bed and settled his big hand on Seth's shoulder. "Whatever you need us to do, we'll do it," he murmured. "I know it feels like it right now, but you are _not_ alone. We'll never let you be alone."

Seth's lips quivered, and he nodded silently. He lowered his eyes to our joined hands and after a few moments, he seemed in control of himself well enough to speak again.

"Thanks. I think right now I'd just like to sit with Leah for a while." He looked up at me questioningly. "Would that be okay?"

"I'm not going anywhere," I answered firmly.

Jake and Edward filed out of the room quietly. When the door closed behind them, I nudged Seth in the side.

"Shove over," I ordered gently.

He shifted as far to the side of the narrow bed as he could manage, and I climbed in beside him. I pulled the covers up over our heads and wrapped my arms around Seth. When I spoke, I wasn't talking to the huge, powerful shape-shifting man, but to the wounded little boy hiding inside his body.

"Let it out," I encouraged as his big body began to shake again with wracking sobs. "I can take it. I'm not going anywhere."

SSW/SSW/SSW

I lost track of the hours I spent holding my brother while he cried and talked, raged and shouted, and then cried some more. When he fell asleep, I finally called Mom, and we wept together quietly for my brother. When I left Seth's room at twilight, Paul and Beau took over guard duties.

His broken heart hadn't been repaired. He still couldn't see past the pain of his loss to believing anything could ever be really right for him again. But I did accomplish one thing during those hours—I reminded Seth of his responsibilities to the pack, and to Anjali's still-missing daughter. Some might have said it was a cheap trick, using my brother's innate sense of duty to force him to stay alive.

I didn't care. I'd use whatever tactics I could. As long as he was alive, there was hope for Seth. I refused to believe a heart as loving and open as his could ever be condemned to misery for the rest of his existence. I had to believe that as long as he drew breath, my brother would find a way to live again—for himself or for someone else.

I slogged my exhausted ass back to the bedroom where I'd first woke up what felt like a million years ago. I hoped that Nahuel had talked to Carlisle and calmed down a bit. And that he'd been his usual considerate self and found something for me to eat. I was starved.

I smelled food as soon as I opened the door, and I made a bee-line across the empty room straight toward the covered tray that sat atop a low dresser beneath a broad, tall window. Under the silver dome, I found a bowl of now-cold vegetable soup, several finger sandwiches, a dish of fresh fruit and a glass of iced cranberry juice.

My heart trilled sweetly in my chest. My vamp-boy was mad at me—probably would be for the foreseeable future—but he was still trying to take care of me. That had to be a good sign, right?

I ate two of the sandwiches in rapid fire, taking the edge off my hunger. Feeling less like a ravenous wolf and more like an exhausted pregnant chick, I picked up the bowl of soup and turned toward the bed, planning to park there and down the soup.

After I'd eaten, I thought, I'd go looking for my imprint. I had no intention of allowing him to sleep anywhere else in the house but in the same bed with me, no matter how pissed off he was.

Halfway across the room, I stumbled to a halt. Soup sloshed out of the bowl and splatted on my feet, but I barely registered the chilled liquid as it seeped between my bare toes.

A single sheet of paper, meticulously folded in a perfect rectangle, rested at an angle on the middle pillow of the king-sized bed. The folded edge looked sharp enough to slice to the bone. My name was written on the outside panel in a flowing script I'd never seen before. I knew instantly who'd written that word.

_No fucking way. He wouldn't. Would he?_

A frightening numbness began to creep up my legs from my slimed toes, and it took all my willpower to convince the damn things to finish carrying me across the room. My hands shook as I set the soup bowl on the bedside stand with my left hand and picked up the folded paper in my right.

I lost count of my heartbeats as I stood holding the paper in one hand while the other curled low over my stomach.

_Just read it, you fucking pussy_, the wolf-bitch whispered resignedly.

Finally, I switched on the lamp on the bedside stand, sank onto the bed and slowly unfolded the page.

_Leah …_

My heart shriveled at the formality, and somewhere I dimly registered my disappointment that I still didn't know how to spell the Mapudungun phrase that I'd come to think of as my name more than the one my parents had given me. Probably now, I would _never_ know.

_I have broken my word and did not speak with Carlisle. I apologize for that, but in light of the other promise that I break now, it seems a small thing. _

_You were right about me all along. I am a coward. I am not brave enough nor strong enough to stay beside you as you die. I'm sorry._

The numbness that had been slowly spreading up my body finally reached my fingers, and they released the note. It drifted silently to the floor.

Could you feel your heart die? The pain was so piercing it doubled me over. I wrapped my arms around my now-vacant chest, and bent forward to rest my head on my knees. My icy tears quickly soaked the pajama pants.

He'd done it. Nahuel had left me. Yet again.

* * *

><p><em><strong>End note: <strong>And that, dear readers, is the last cliff-hanger you will see in "Season of the She Wolf." Cross my heart and hope to die._

_So as we approach the end, and our 1,000th review, I'm offering a couple of give-aways. First, the talented MunkeeRajah is hand-making a special SSW keepsake to be awarded to the 1,000th reviewer. Second, the first person who can tell me the link between all the chapter titles in this story gets to choose the name for Leah's baby from a short list I'll provide.  
><em>


	41. When I Live My Dream

_**A/N:** This is it, the final chapter. There will also be an epilogue, but this is really where the story concludes. I'll let you all get right to it and save my long comments for an end note._

_Twilight is the property of Stephenie Meyer.  
><em>

* * *

><p>Chapter 41 – When I Live My Dream<p>

**Leah POV**

_Time crawls._

_Even though it seems impossible, time lingers oppressively. The minutes limp into hours into days like a wounded animal dragging itself into a dark hole to hide and die. _

_Time crawls. _

_Especially for me._

SSW/SSW/SSW

Mom's clump of keys landed on the kitchen table in front of me with a loud _thwack!_

Startled, I jerked in my chair, and my eyes snapped to her face.

I hadn't heard her car approach the house, her footsteps tread up the paved walk, or the front door open. I didn't know how long I'd been sitting, motionless and silent, at the kitchen table.

I'd drifted again. It was the only thing that dulled the sharp ache that gnawed constantly behind my breastbone.

"That's it, Leah," Mom fumed, her eyes blazing with anger. "Take those keys …" her finger stabbed in the direction of the wad of metal, "… and get the hell out of this house."

Listlessly, I pulled my hands off the table, settled them in what little was left of my lap, and directed my gaze over her right shoulder. Beyond her back, a picture window looked out on the snow-covered, gently sloping front yard. A thicket of towering ponderosa pines obscured the distant road. The afternoon sun had been bright and crisp on the immaculate snow when I sat down. Now, twilight frosted everything a deep, smoky blue.

It was a pretty scene, the kind they used to paint on the lid of cookie tins when I was a kid. The kind that should have warmed my heart with thoughts of home—if I'd still had a heart. Or a home.

We'd been in this sprawling ranch house in South Dakota's Black Hills for four months, but it wasn't home. Mom, Seth and I had settled here with Charlie, who took early retirement, when the Cullens and Jake's pack had left Forks following Joham's defeat. The new Cullen house—a monolithic structure built into the side of a hill—was just a twenty-minute hike north through the thick pine forest.

Jake and Renesmee had married in grand style just before we left Forks and were now living in a house of their own that was about the same distance from the mansion as ours was, but in the opposite direction. Beau and Embry, the unattached members of our pack, were staying in the mansion. Quil and Paul had remained in Forks. Quil, because of Claire and Paul, because of Rachel, Billy and the kids. Neither had been thrilled to rejoin Sam's pack, but they'd made their peace with our former Alpha.

In my own fashion, so had I.

Sam had made me the same offer he'd given Paul and Quil, even though he didn't want me back in his head any more than I wanted to be there. But he probably thought that if Nahuel ever _did_ come back, La Push might be the first place he would look for me.

Nahuel _wasn't_ coming back. I told myself that every single day. I didn't do it because I needed convincing. I did it in the hopes that if I exposed myself to that excruciating fact often enough, I could build up a resistance to the pain, the way an assassin would use repeated exposure to train her body to resist a specific toxin. So far, it wasn't working very well.

No one else seemed as certain, however, that Nahuel was gone for good—including my first ex. The fact that Sam would try at all to help reunite me with my absent imprint spoke volumes for how much he'd mellowed. How much his perspective on life had changed.

But then, losing a child will do that to you.

We'd been back from Alaska—minus Nahuel—for just one week when Emily had miscarried. I'd bolstered my courage and gone to their house to offer my condolences, even though I'd planned to keep my mouth shut about my own pregnancy. Not only was I embarrassed to be knocked up and alone, I didn't want to add to Emily's pain.

But they'd already known. Sam had heard it from one of the loud-mouthed elders, who'd gotten it from my overly responsible Alpha.

They'd been sympathetic and without judgment, as if their grief had washed away their ability to resent anyone else for having what they had lost. Probably we'd never be able to completely bury the hatchet, but that day, we blunted it enough that it wouldn't hack at the three of us anymore. No matter how permanently pissed I was at both of them, I'd never wish losing a baby on anyone.

Still, when Sam made his offer, there was never any possibility that I'd accept. When the Cullens vacated Forks, I packed up, too.

I needed Carlisle's care to see me through my pregnancy and delivery. I needed the emotional support of my family and pack. I needed to be with Seth, to help ensure he continued to heal. And I needed to be the hell away from the memories that choked the air from my lungs every time I sat in the kitchen of our house on the rez, or slept in my cold, empty bed.

Going after Nahuel wasn't an option. When Joham had kidnapped my imprint from my house, I'd used the draw of the imprinting bond to help me find Nahuel. That time, he'd been pulling on the other end of that invisible cable with everything he had. Now, it felt like he'd taken a cleaver to that connection and then run like hell. There was nothing left but a throbbing, smoking crater in my chest where my heart used to be. Pervasive pain crippled that internal sense of direction that should have guided me to my imprint; I couldn't have found him even if I'd wanted to.

And if he didn't want me enough to overcome his fear and anger … well, then, I didn't want him, either, I told myself. Repeatedly.

All that kept me going through the long, lightless days was the hope that the baby growing beneath that hole in my chest would eventually be enough to fill it.

The move to the Black Hills was supposed to be temporary. We were there until the weather improved and it would be more practical to relocate a huge troupe of people and three households of stuff. In the spring, the house Esme was having built in North Carolina's Blue Ridge Mountains would be finished. My daughter would be a few months old by then, and the whole bizarre clan would pack up and move again.

When the time came, I'd be sorry to leave. Even though it didn't feel like home, the place was peaceful and quiet. I could hide away inside my head from the ever-painful throbbing of that frayed and broken psychic cable—most of the time.

Every few weeks, the pain would overwhelm me and I'd wallow in it for a few days. Eventually, though, my inner wolf would get sick of my bullshit, remind me that I was being a self-pitying little bitch, and kick me back into some semblance of functionality. I had no right to marinate in my depression when Seth's situation was so much worse than mine. At least my imprint was alive somewhere. Being apart from him was still far less excruciating than watching your imprint die, as my brother had.

If I'd ever wondered which of the Clearwater kids was emotionally stronger, the past few months had answered the question. While I barely kept my nose above the waterline in my whirlpool of depression, Seth tenaciously clawed his way back to life. Maybe that haunted emptiness behind his dark eyes would never entirely disappear, but every day, my brother strove heroically to walk in the sunlight and not allow the darkness to consume him. For the most part, he succeeded.

One month after we'd moved to South Dakota, Seth returned to Denali with Jake's blessing. He was determined to find Anjali's daughter and the other hybrid children. Garrett and Kate agreed to go with him. Seth had Jake's borrowed memories of Ivvavik, and with Garrett's knowledge of the terrain, they probably stood a better chance than anyone at finding the lost children.

I'd actually thought of going with them for all of two seconds. That was the first time the baby kicked me in the bladder and the sharp pain reminded me why I couldn't go. So the trio went off without me, and they managed to check in by phone every few days. So far, they'd had no luck, but we hadn't heard from them in two weeks. Everyone hoped it was because they were busy making real progress.

"Leah!" My mother's irritated voice snapped me back to reality.

I dragged my eyes back to her face. Guilt poked me painfully at the mix of frustration, anger and fear I saw there. Tiny lines that hadn't been present six months ago webbed around her beautiful eyes, and I knew worry for me had put them there.

"You're throwing me out?" I mumbled.

I didn't feel disturbed at the thought. Only slightly confused about what I'd done this time to make her lose patience with me once and for all.

She clapped her hand to her forehead, and the plain gold band on her left hand glinted brightly in the harsh overhead light. She and Charlie had married quietly just a few weeks after the major production of Jake and Renesmee's wedding.

"Of course not!" she sighed. "I just want you to get out of the house for a while. Do you realize you've been cooped up in here all week? When was the last time you even walked to the end of the driveway to get the paper?"

I dropped my eyes and smoothed my grungy gray cardigan over my rounded belly. The baby reacted to my caress as she always did, and I felt a gentle nudge under my hand. It was one of the few things that could make me smile these days.

"We don't get the paper," I reminded her, trying for a teasing tone. Her eyes narrowed, but the tilt at the corner of her mouth told me I'd at least partially succeeded in tickling her.

"You know what I mean," she replied, pulling out the chair across from mine and dropping into it. "Look, why don't you go into town and check out that new baby store?"

With about a month left to go before my due date, Mom and I had begun outfitting one of the spare bedrooms as a nursery. It was hard to get excited about much of anything since Nahuel left, but I did want to make a nice home for our baby. She deserved at least that much from her fucked-up mother. Her room wasn't anywhere near done, so Mom's suggestion actually didn't suck.

I cleared my throat and rubbed my beach-ball-sized belly absently. "I do still need a few things," I muttered. "I don't even have any clothes for her."

Mom's eyes popped.

"I thought Dr. Cullen wasn't able to see the baby's sex on the ultrasound? When did you find out?"

I shook my head.

"We didn't," I corrected her. "I'm just guessing."

Although every other sign indicated the baby and I were both perfectly healthy, ultrasounds were useless. It seemed my baby _was_ some kind of shield, like Bella—or at least that was the consensus of vampires in the know, namely Carlisle, Eleazar and Edward. Eleazar seemed certain that the baby had somehow broken Joham's hold over me that night in Denali.

We weren't sure what was really going on, but our best guess was that the baby was blocking the ultrasound. Why she objected to the ultrasound but accepted the Doppler was a mystery. It was also a mystery why I was able to hear her heartbeat but no one else could. Jasper could pick up her emotions but not influence them, and both she and I were totally silent to Edward.

There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to how her abilities worked, but I just didn't have the emotional energy to worry about it. I just accepted that the baby's talents—and its sex—would remain an enigma until she was born. Still, I assumed I was having a girl because every _other_ vampire-human hybrid was female, with one painfully noteworthy exception.

"Oh," Mom said, disappointment salting her voice. "Well, in that case, I'd advise against buying pink until after the baby is born. Stick with light green, white or yellow."

I blinked. "Uh, yeah sure." It was the kind of mundane, everyday detail that I simply didn't have the focus for anymore. Good thing Mom was still thinking.

I rose easily from the chair, and Mom snorted and shook her head, obviously disgusted.

"What?"

She pointed an accusing finger at my stomach, which, in the final stages of my pregnancy, had grown to roughly the size of Rhode Island.

"You're toting that around and you still move like you're lighter than air," she griped. "On behalf of women everywhere, I ought to slap you silly."

Even I had to smile at that. Just a little.

I grabbed the keys and headed toward the door.

SSW/SSW/SSW

Two hours later, I'd decided Mom's baby shopping suggestion actually _did_ suck. Big time.

Bad enough the store was packed because its opening was the biggest news story the podunk little town had seen all year. Worse that it was crawling with other pregnant women, all of whom looked a hell of a lot happier than I ever expected to be again. Killer that every one of those women was accompanied by a guy who looked either totally shell-shocked or proud as punch.

Was I the only single mother in the whole freaking state of South Dakota? After bumping bellies with more Stepford moms than I'd ever imagined could exist, I was ready to go the hell home.

I maneuvered my almost-empty shopping cart to the end of a line that looked like it belonged in a theme park rather than a retail store. The cart in front of me was heaped so high, I could barely see the dude's head over the mound of stuff. He appeared to be attempting a mental tally of just how empty his wallet was going to be when he finally made it to the front of the line.

The petite blonde with him was sporting a modest baby bump tastefully draped in a designer maternity top. She flicked her disdainful eyes over my uncombed hair, down my horrendously-inappropriate-for-the-weather white tank dress and shabby gray cardigan. Her eyes lingered on my ringless hands, where they rested on the shopping cart—I hadn't worn Mom's solitaire, or even seen it, since before we left Forks—before sliding all the way down to my unlaced Chucks. She concluded her inspection and finally met my eyes.

Her expression clearly said frumpiness and depression were communicable diseases and that since I obviously had terminal cases of both, I really shouldn't be mixing with fashionable, happy people.

I held her gaze, waiting. She didn't waste two seconds taking up my non-verbal challenge.

Her perfectly made-up lips said: "Are you all alone?" Her eyes silently added: "Of course you are."

Preggo-princess nodded to the modest pile of baby clothes tossed haphazardly in the bottom of my shopping cart. "If you need a hand carrying that to the car, my husband would be happy to help," she offered in a saccharine tone.

My inner wolf-bitch howled with glee. This petty, mean little witch had just given me the perfect opportunity for some guilt-free venting of the anger I'd been keeping bottled up. I opened my mouth to verbally cap her tight ass, and inhaled deeply through my nose to fuel the tirade I fully intended to unleash.

The scent crashed into me like a wrecking ball.

Cinnamon and spice. Lust and longing.

I stopped breathing.

_He's not here_, the wolf-bitch growled_. You've finally lost it. _

I forced my lungs to work and sucked in a desperate breath. His scent hit me again, punching pain through my chest and scorching down my rib cage. The roiling mass of misery at the base of that fucking invisible cable jerked fiercely, shaking my body like a bunny in the jaws of a mountain lion.

_He can't be here. He can't be._

My eyes frantically scanned the room. I clutched the shopping cart for support and turned in a wobbly circle, seeking with my eyes what my brain said was impossible and my nose insisted was real.

_He isn't here. He's not coming back. He's never coming back._

The preggo-princess took a step toward me and grabbed my elbow. "Hey!" Genuine concern had chased the snark from her voice. "Are you okay? You're not going to faint, are you?"

I couldn't have answered her, even if I'd wanted to. My eyes swept past her pale, alarmed face, raking over the press of bodies surrounding me in the packed store.

"Do you want to sit down?" She raised her voice and barked at her oblivious husband. "Todd, I think she's going to faint!"

The little blonde was pressed up against me now, her hand still on my elbow and the other arm around my waist for support. Normally, I had a strict hands-off policy when interacting with strangers, but I pried one hand off the shopping cart handle and clutched her sleeve, needing the human contact to anchor me. How had preggo-princess gone from my antagonist to my rescuer in just a few seconds?

"Tammy, what's going on?" Her husband was finally paying attention to our exchange.

My dazed stare slid over her shoulder, past the clueless Todd … and slammed to a halt. There, just inside the store entrance, in a spot my eyes had already skimmed over a dozen times—

He stood still and straight and fucking _perfect_.

His teak eyes were wide and unreadable, and they didn't waver from mine. Coffee-and-cream skin glowed impossibly warm and flawless in the harsh, cold light of the overhead flourescents. Glossy blue-black hair softly brushed the collar of the stained, torn denim jacket he wore, and my mind snagged on that minutiae. Had it grown? I hadn't known that was possible.

As if someone had dumped a bucket of boiling water over my head, heat poured down my body from my crown to my toes. The fiery surge dragged the strength from my limbs as it passed. Only Tammy's grip on my waist, and mine on the shopping cart, kept me on my feet.

His full lips were parted slightly, and the warmth from his higher-than-human body temperature made his sweet breath plume, even inside the well-heated store.

Around him, the ebb and flow of mere mortals fluxed past as if he didn't exist, as if his motionless, implacable form weren't partially blocking the automatic door. His presence forced the door to linger open and admit gusts of frigid, snow-stippled air into the warm interior of the building. The other shoppers moved in and out of the store as if they didn't see him at all.

How was it possible that no one—everyone—had stopped to stare at his inhuman perfection? Was I hallucinating?

Beside me, Tammy stiffened.

"Is that man bothering you?" she whispered, her voice low and urgent.

So … _not_ hallucinating. Tammy saw him, too. And while I couldn't tell at all from his lack of expression what was going on behind his glorious eyes, she apparently thought he looked threatening.

_If you only knew_, I thought wildly.

Of course, his vampire-sharp hearing caught Tammy's question out of the heavy air. He could probably hear the insane, careening thunder of my heartbeat, too. Still holding my panicked gaze, he shook his head slowly, almost imperceptibly.

_What the hell does that mean?_

I ordered my knees to stay locked.

While no power on earth could have torn my eyes from his face, I knew I had to say something to Tammy. More importantly, I had to get out of the store immediately. I didn't know what would happen if I allowed this reunion with my wayward imprint to play out in public, and I sure as hell didn't want to find out. And if I were imagining this … well, I still didn't want to end up being the floor show.

Todd stepped toward us, momentarily blocking my view of Nahuel. When his big, fat human head finally moved out of the way, the automatic door was sliding closed and the spot where I'd seen my imprint was empty.

"Todd, that man is bothering this poor woman," Tammy said, her voice still low. She was trying to protect my privacy, I realized, because by now we were getting some curious looks from other shoppers nearby.

The so-far-utterly-useless Todd swiveled to stare in the direction his wife indicated, before turning back, confusion draped across his bland features. "What man?"

Tammy blinked and peered around her husband's beefy shoulder.

"Crap," she muttered. "He took off."

She pushed her lower lip outward and nibbled it for a moment, obviously debating. "I think we should call the police," she announced after a moment.

"No!" I croaked. "Don't call the cops. I'm fine. Really."

Tammy's eyebrows rose skeptically. Todd maintained his bewildered expression, but still had the presence of mind to edge his cart and mine forward as the line moved up.

"No, really, I'm fine," I insisted. I scrubbed my sleeve over my forehead. I was sweating like a parochial school boy whose favorite nun had just caught him with his hand down his pants, massaging his balls. "I just thought I saw someone I knew, but it wasn't. Anyone I know, I mean."

The old Leah would have been pissed by Tammy's persistence and her sympathetic attitude.

"Sweetie, I saw that guy," she said, shaking her head worriedly. "He was looking at you like you're something to eat."

Crazed, totally inappropriate laughter welled up behind my teeth, and I clamped my lips tight to hold it in. The pressure made my eyes water. I shook my head.

"No," I managed to grind out after a few moments. "It was no one. I'm fine. Thanks for asking, though. I think I just need to go home now."

Tammy's sympathy sulked into antipathy. Clearly, she thought I was one of those women who refuses to accept help getting out of a bad boyfriend situation. I momentarily felt bad for fobbing off her overture, until sense reasserted itself and I realized just how dangerous it could be for them if I allowed these two innocent, normal people to get caught up in my supernatural drama.

"Fine," she sighed. "At least let Todd walk you to your car. You don't mind, right honey?"

"Uh …" Todd opined eloquently, looking like he actually _did_ mind, fuck you very much. "… sure."

He looked at the handful of items in my cart, which obviously had yet to be paid for. "You ready to go now?"

There wasn't a thing in that cart that I couldn't live without for a while longer, I decided. And stupid as I knew it was, I didn't want to walk to my car alone. Not that I was in any way afraid of Nahuel. If he'd been unwilling to cause a scene in the store, I doubted he'd do so in the equally busy parking lot. But I wasn't sure my legs would stay functioning all the way to the car, and I figured Todd might at least be able to keep my ass off the wet pavement if they gave out.

I shoved the cart aside and looked at Todd.

"Yeah, let's go," I said and started for the door, pausing at the last moment to look back at Tammy. "Thanks," I added sincerely.

She shrugged, bent over her cart and began shoveling items onto the checkout's conveyor belt. "No problem," she murmured, disinterestedly. "You take care."

I turned and headed out the door with the surly, resentful Todd in tow. As I passed over the spot where Nahuel had stood moments before, a shiver skittered down my spine. Was it dread? Fear? Hope? I couldn't say, but other more pressing questions crowded my mind.

Where did he go? Where had he been all these months? How had he found me?

And why the fuck had he come back?

SSW/SSW/SSW

The house was empty and silent, but not dark, when I arrived home.

Mom had left a light on for me in the foyer. A note propped against it informed me that she and Charlie had decided to go to dinner and a late movie. Her breezy sign off of "don't wait up" reminded me that even though time had crawled for me these past torturous months, it had moved on for everyone else. She was happy with Charlie, and I couldn't resent her for it. I didn't even consider disrupting their date with a phone call to tell her about the incident at the baby store.

My hands had shaken the whole way home. As I'd driven through the darkened streets, I'd told myself I really had imagined the encounter. A brain could conjure up some amazing shit when it was under the kind of strain I'd lived with for the past several months. Even Tammy's reaction could be reasonably explained. She'd merely followed the direction of my stare and seen someone else that she thought looked suspicious. That didn't mean she'd really seen Nahuel.

If he'd actually been there, he would have trailed my car and jumped in front of it by now and … done what? I had no idea. But I took the fact that nothing happened on the drive home to mean the whole episode had been nothing more than my cheese finally sliding off my cracker. I'd imagined the whole event. It was easier to believe my mind had cracked than to accept that my imprint had come back to find me. Allowing myself to feel that kind of hope would only lead to more heartbreak.

I locked the door behind me, ditched my wet Chucks in the mud room and switched off the light. Moving slowly, I wandered through the dark house. It was much bigger than the home I'd grown up in, its size and quality courtesy of the Cullens' vast fortunes.

My bedroom was at the back of the house, on the opposite corner from the master suite where Mom and Charlie slept. With two bathrooms and a third bedroom separating my sleeping quarters from theirs, they were oblivious to the number of nights I spent pacing around my room. And I didn't have to hear whatever was going on behind the bedroom door of the middle-aged newlyweds, either.

Evening seemed to be the baby's favorite time for engaging in prenatal calisthenics that made it very difficult for me to rest. But tonight, she was still and quiet in my tummy. Her heartbeat was slow and steady, and I thought she might be asleep.

I was wrecked, too emotionally exhausted to think straight. I knew I should at least call Jake and tell him what I thought had happened, but all I wanted at the moment was to lose the psychological weight of the last few hours—the last few months—in dreamless slumber.

Tomorrow I would pick up the question of whether or not I'd really seen Nahuel—and what it might mean if I had.

Nothing stirred or made noise in the still, quiet house. It was as empty and echoing as the chasm where my heart used to be.

I padded into my bedroom, shut the door behind me and made my way to the bed. Instead of peeling the covers back and climbing in as I'd intended, I stood staring down at it.

I felt numb. Lost. Alone and hollow.

Hanging my head, I gave in and finally admitted to myself how much I'd been hoping I'd come home to find Nahuel waiting for me. The tears I'd been holding in for months finally broke free, trickled down my cheeks and splashed onto the stretched front of my worn sweater.

_Stupid bitch. He wasn't really there. He's gone. He didn't come back. He's not coming back. Ever. _

This time, his scent wafted over me like a warm blanket dropped gently around my sagging shoulders.

Slowly, as if a fast move might gust that comforting, delectable scent from the room, I turned back toward the door. My hand fumbled for the bedside lamp, shaking so badly I could barely twist the switch, because I knew—but was fucking afraid to _believe_—what I'd see in its illumination.

Nahuel stood with his back pressed firmly against my bedroom door, vampire still and silent.

Every muscle in my body clenched painfully at the sight of him. Warring desires—to go to him, run from him, kiss him, slap the shit out of him—paralyzed me. Pins and needles pricked my palms with the urge to feel his skin beneath my hands.

Neither of us moved a millimeter.

His eyes were huge and round, damp and tormented. They lingered on my face before sliding slowly down my body. When his gaze reached my bulging belly, it snagged there, and he gulped a huge, ragged breath. That creepy immobility shivered from his form and his long, lean body began to tremble violently.

Abruptly, like a moth helplessly drawn to the flame that will crisp it, he fluttered across the room, his long legs carrying him to my side in three uncertain steps. For a heartbeat, he stood with a hand's breadth of space between us, and the delicious heat of his body pulsed over mine.

Funny that I hadn't realized just how cold I'd been until that moment. Cold as a shadow on the ocean floor. Cold as a virgin's grave. Nothing ever felt warm to me but Nahuel.

I didn't see him move, but suddenly his mouth was on me and his greedy hands were fucking _everywhere_. He roughly groped every part of me he could reach, stretching his arms wide around my ballooning belly, gliding his fingertips over my ass, gripping my back and shoulders, massaging across my sides and up my rib cage to fondle my breasts.

Every touch was like feeding a bar of Belgian chocolate to a starving woman. Desperate, animal craving swamped my senses, burying my anger and resentment beneath a thick, sweet frosting of desire.

He didn't touch his mouth to mine, but his tongue and lips scorched over every other inch of my face and throat. When that didn't seem enough for him, he grasped the collar of my cardigan and yanked it, baring my shoulders to his frantic, devouring kisses. Two sharp tugs on the neckline of my dress left my tits exposed almost to the nipples.

He'd abandoned me and broken my heart worse than anything Sam had ever done, so you would think his manhandling would piss me off. And anger was definitely there among the mess of emotions clattering around in my head, but intense, euphoric relief was wining out.

I'd been motionless under his hands, but the hot lick of his tongue across the crevasse of my cleavage broke my lethargy. I buried my fingers in his hair and dragged his head up until we were nose to nose. I wanted to kiss him senseless. Wanted to see in his eyes that this moment meant the same thing to him that it did to me, but his eyes were closed tightly. He panted in short, whistling breaths.

Finally, he spoke, gasping against my lips. Instead of the lush, rich baritone I loved, his voice was papery thin and feeble, as if he hadn't truly used it in a very long time. I was so shocked by the weakness of his voice that it took a moment to register _what_ he was saying.

"You are alive."

Stunned, my fingers unclenched, releasing his head from my control. He immediately buried his face against the naked skin of my neck.

"You are alive," he repeated, an alarming edge of hysteria seeping into his speech. He giggled madly against my throat, and his hard, warm body trembled feverishly. His hands were still moving, squeezing and gripping so recklessly that he was surely leaving a trail of bruises wherever he touched.

"Oh, my heart, Seth said … but I did not believe … so much _pain_ ... I thought it must mean you died. I did not know. I would have come sooner. I did not _know_ … You are alive! You are alive!"

So many disjointed thoughts were zinging around inside me that my brain was on a ten-second delay. One thing floated to the top in the emotional cauldron boiling in my head.

"You thought I was dead?"

At my bluntly worded question, he broke.

Sobs wracked his body—wretched, pathetic weeping like I'd heard from Seth the night Anjali died—his quaking arms crushed me to him, and his legs gave out. He crumpled slowly to the floor, dragging me down with him. I cradled him in my arms like a child as he wept brokenly against my chest.

In that moment, the screaming agony of the past five months sank into silence. The thick coating of betrayal that had smothered my heart sizzled and smoked away. He'd abandoned me, turned his back on our child and our future, and left me emotionally crippled—and none of that mattered at all.

The simple truth was neither of us had known jack shit about love—real love, the kind that flattens your world and rebuilds something incredible and new from the ruins—until we'd loved each other. We'd both made mistakes and would certainly make more in the centuries ahead of us. But neither of us would ever want or need anything more than each other.

That was all that mattered in this moment. We had eternity in which to work out everything else.

I stroked his tear-slicked face and pressed my lips to his hot forehead. He was still babbling between his breathless sobs, and some of it was in his own language, some of it was English and some of it was surely just gibberish. I breathed deeply, saturating my brain with his spicy-sweet scent, and let him ramble. What little I could understand told me he'd suffered as much from our separation as I had. Maybe even more.

"_Inchepoyeneimi_ … thought you were dead … hurt so _fucking_ much … surely, you were gone … wanted to die, wanted to die … _kisu_ … kept going … owed it to my sister to find Ahlia… _Inchepoyeneimi!_"

He burrowed his face into my body where the mound of my belly met the swell of my breasts, and paused long enough to suck in a shuddering, staggered breath.

"I am sorry, ñi piuque," he whimpered. "I am sorry. I should not have left. I was a coward. I beg you, _forgive_ me—"

I pulled hard on a hank of his silky hair, and though he refused to lift his head, his babbling ground to a halt. Into the silence, I gently lay the only words I could think of that could start to heal both of us.

"I love you, Nahuel," I murmured, stroking his back with the hand that wasn't buried in his hair.

His arms tightened around me crushingly, and his lovely, perfect nose gouged into my sternum hard enough to make me wince. Someone else objected to the tight squeeze, too, and I felt from inside the sharp jab of a little fist against the source of the discomfort.

Nahuel jerked back like he'd been stabbed. His mouth fell open and his eyes rounded in astonishment.

"What was that?" he gasped, gaping at my belly like he expected it to generate an electrical charge next.

Angst was still heavy in the air, but I had to laugh at his stunned reaction.

"That was your daughter," I chuckled. "She probably didn't appreciate getting squished."

Dismay crashed over his perfect features, and his gaze flashed to my face.

"I am sorry! Did I hurt you?" His eyes dropped to my swollen stomach. "Did I harm … her?"

Five months ago, he'd thought of her as an "it," and wanted her dead. Now he was worried that some enthusiastic nudging might have hurt her. If he could change that much of his attitude about our baby, what else had changed? Was it possible he would _want_ to be a father now?

I swallowed hard, trying to clear my throat of the emotion clogging it.

"She's fine," I whispered, smoothing his shaggy hair back from his cheeks. "I'm fine."

He studied my face for a long moment, as if trying to decide whether I was really okay or just saying so to make him feel better. He scrubbed the wetness from his face with the sleeve of his jacket. Finally, he nodded and looked wonderingly at my stomach again. His hand tentatively lifted, fingers hovering over the stretched fabric of my dress.

"May I?"

My heart did a happy little jig. He wanted to know about our baby.

I grabbed his hand and brought it the rest of the way to my body. His long, warm fingers spread over the hard curve of my stomach. His touch was so light, so gentle I didn't think he'd feel anything, so I pressed his hand firmly against my flesh. The baby responded with another energetic push.

He gasped again, and his eyes shot back to my face. Worry saturated his golden gaze, and I didn't know what was wrong.

"What?" I asked, shaking my head in protest at the anxiety in his eyes.

"Are you in pain when the baby moves?"

A weak memory surged to the fore: the loud crack as bone fractured, and Bella's voice screaming in agony. On the heels of that recollection, realization crowded in. Nahuel would surely have comparable memories of a similar experience, only his would be from a different perspective. His would be from inside his mother's womb.

In a hurry to reassure him, I let the words spill from my mouth without thinking.

"No, I'm not in _any_ physical pain," I told him, watching his face so I could catch the moment when he would finally accept that I was in no danger from our baby. "She has never hurt me."

Anguish flared brightly in his liquid gold eyes.

"I have hurt you," he choked. "If the pain you have borne in these past months was even a fraction of what I experienced—" He laid his cheek against my belly and slid his arms as far around my waist as he could reach. "I am a monster."

"Nahuel, no—"

He interrupted my protest, speaking over me gently but insistently.

"Yes, I am," he corrected, turning into my stomach so that his face was hidden and his voice muffled. "Perhaps I will be always. But I hope you are able to learn to live with my monstrosity, because I will never leave you again. Not even if you command me to go."

My heart soared into my throat, pushing my emotions in front of it. Joy leaked from my eyes, hot and salty.

"That will never happen, baby," I hiccupped messily. "I'll never tell you to go. I'm sorry I lied to you and started this who mess—"

Again, he cut me off in that gentle, tender tone. "I forgive you," he murmured. "I do not like that you deceived me, but I understand now why you felt you had to. Only promise me you will never do so again."

I smiled through my tears. "I promise I won't ever lie to you again. And I'm telling you right now that if you ever try to leave me again, I will hunt you down and kick your ass until you see sense."

He made a snorting sound—something between a laugh and a sob—against my belly.

"I know. I will depend upon that."

I laughed with him and wrapped my arms around his head, holding him against me tightly. I had no intention of ever letting go again. I'd be perfectly happy to spend eternity parked right here, on the warm, carpeted floor of my bedroom with the man I loved resting in my arms.

Someone else had other ideas though, and an energetic stomp on my bladder reminded me of the third party in the room. Nahuel apparently felt the movement, too. Reluctantly, I released him as he straightened to a seated position beside me on the floor. His palm rubbed low over my belly.

"We have much to discuss, ñi piuque," he sighed, as if he regretted the need to speak at all.

My skipping heart stumbled at his tone. The last time he'd asked to talk about something, he'd wanted me to agree to an abortion. Tension wound tight around my throat. Before he could say something that would re-break my freshly healing heart, I jumped in first.

"Nahuel, where have you been?" Then, as something he'd said earlier bubbled to the surface of my consciousness, I added: "What did you mean about Seth telling you something? When did you see him?"

He continued palming my stomach, watching his own hand sweep slowly back and forth, as if he couldn't bear to lose contact with my body for even a few seconds. His voice was growing stronger, but was still only a shadow of the silken cadence that I loved.

"When I left Denali, I went in search of the hybrid children," he murmured, not looking away from his hand. He brought the other up to join the first. "I found them very quickly."

At my surprised gasp, his eyes flickered to mine and his hands stilled momentarily.

"I could not let my sister's child remain in the hands of anyone associated with my sire," he said simply. "I thought it might take a very long time to find them, and that I would have to battle to free them from whomever Joham had left in charge. But when I located them after just a few weeks of searching, they were completely alone."

He paused again and his perfectly arched brows dipped together. "In retrospect, I believe they wished to be found. They are very intelligent. When Joham and Remy did not return for them, they knew they needed to seek other caregivers. They were very pleased to see me."

A thousand questions jostled for dominance in my brain. I was floored that Joham would have left the children completely alone—abandoned them, really—and that my imprint had been the one to find them. Nahuel's psycho sperm-donor was gone and never coming back, yet the depth of his evil continued to amaze me.

"Seth's been looking for them for months," I blurted.

A shy smile tugged the corner of his mouth upward. My heart rose with that small motion.

"I know," he agreed. "He found us two weeks ago. I had decided the best course of action would be to place the children in the care of Dr. Cullen and his family. Unfortunately, I was ill-prepared to make such a journey with five children. Imagine traveling from the wilderness in northern Canada thousands of miles south with no means of transportation, no money and no telephone with which to call for help."

I hadn't realized my yap was hanging open, until Nahuel gently pressed a fingertip beneath my chin and urged my mouth shut. His smile widened.

"We had been walking for several weeks, living off what animals we could hunt, when Seth, Kate and Garrett found us," he said, shaking his head at the memory of his own stupidity. "They were much better prepared than I had been, and we decided we should take the children to Denali. They are there now, waiting for Dr. Cullen to come for them."

My mouth must have slid open again because Nahuel's gaze appeared to be riveted on it. It occurred to me that I'd better do something constructive with the damned orifice before he decided to occupy it for me, in which case I'd lose my window to keep asking questions.

"Is Seth alright?" It was my second-most urgent question, but a safer topic than what I really wanted to ask, which was if Nahuel was back to stay.

He looked up from his inspection of my mouth and met my eyes.

"He is very strong. Stronger than I was when I thought myself in his stead." His voice faltered again, a sharp edge of anguish accenting his speech. "By the time Seth found me, the pain of being separated from you was so great that I thought your death was the only explanation for it."

He bowed his head, and his hands resumed their urgent movement on my abdomen.

"Seth was very angry with me for leaving you. When he told me you lived, I did not believe him." Shame crept into his tone. "I insulted him unforgivably and accused him of lying."

A short, self-deprecating chuckle slipped from his perfect lips. "He thrashed me soundly for my arrogance. Then he told me where you were and ordered me to go to you. Still, I did not believe you could possibly be alive."

"But you're here," I protested gently. "You must have believed him at some level."

He was silent for a handful of heartbeats. "I wanted to," he said at last. "Very badly. But I do not think I fully did until I saw you earlier tonight."

He shook his head again and dragged one hand through his tousled hair. His head tipped to the side, and his eyes met mine again. Heat and desire simmered in their teak depths.

"I have been dead for five months," he said. "It seems I am incapable of living without you. I was a fool to even attempt it. I will never again be so witless."

Abruptly, he rose to his knees in front of me, bending at the waist to allow both hands better access to my body. His magical fingers continued to stroke over the expanse of my belly, but his caresses seemed to be growing less exploratory and more stimulating.

"I dreamed of this," he murmured. Delicious shivers rippled down my spine at the sensual timbre of his voice. Damp heat collected low in my belly, and I had to force myself to concentrate on his words. "It was wrong, and I hated myself for it, but I fantasized about how you would look round with my child."

Insecurity bubbled up through the desire, and I stiffened slightly. Jake and Charlie had both trotted out that old "swallowed a watermelon" joke until I'd verbally slapped them down. I was definitely not the buff she-wolf Nahuel had fallen in love with. Would he be repulsed by the all-too-human changes in my body?

"You are even more beautiful than I could have imagined," he whispered. Slowly, as if he were reluctant to look away from the sight of his hands on my body, he peeked up at me through his long lashes. "I do not know what kind of father I will be, but I promise I will try … if you will allow it."

The air rushed out of my lungs in a loud woosh, and my head swam dizzily.

For five months, I'd forced myself _not_ to dream of this conversation, not to imagine what it might be like to have Nahuel tell me he wanted me _and_ our baby. If I'd allowed myself to think of it at all, I couldn't have imagined a more perfect scenario. He was saying everything I wanted to hear, and the intense pulse of adoration and honesty that surged down that invisible cable left no doubt of his sincerity.

The moment was so intensely transcendent, that I was afraid to speak and fuck it up.

But while I was totally certain of him, Nahuel apparently didn't feel as confident of me. He misread my overwhelmed silence for resistance. His teak eyes narrowed and determination drew his jaw tight.

"It is pointless to refuse me," he said firmly. "You are mine, and so is our baby. I will not be like my sire. I will be beside my mate when my child enters the world, and I will be a part of my child's life—"

Laughing like a fool, I lunged up onto my knees—a move beyond the abilities of the average pregnant woman—hit him belly-first, and toppled him backward onto the floor. He grunted manfully beneath me as he bore the full brunt of my weight. My ginormous stomach was sandwiched between us and I had to crane my neck to get to his lips, but I managed it.

Between the impact of my girth on his gut and the oxygen-stealing force behind my kiss, he was huffing like a steam engine when I finally released his mouth.

"Leah," he panted heavily, his fingers scrabbling at my thighs, dragging my skirt toward my hips. "I want you."

We still had a lot of work to do, and we both knew it. And we sure weren't going to resolve all our issues just by humping like bunnies. But we'd been apart from each other—hollow and lost—for too long. The imprinting bond, stretched and badly strained through our months of separation, was reasserting itself in the most basic and instinctual way.

I had no intention of resisting that pull ever again.

I laughed breathlessly against his throat, ignoring the ratty denim jacket he wore in favor of attacking the buttons of the shirt beneath it.

"I'm not sure we'll be able to accomplish anything around this beach ball I'm carrying," I joked.

"We will manage," he growled.

He hooked all ten fingers in the neckline of my dress and dragged it down below my breasts. Stretching his neck, he latched on to my nipple and drew on it hard. I moaned loudly enough to crack glass.

A second later, I squeaked in surprise. He'd used that damned vampire speed and strength to catapult us both off the floor and onto my bed so quickly my stomach wobbled dangerously. When the room stopped its momentary spin and my eyes refocused, Nahuel was poised on his hands and knees above my massive belly and naked tits.

His eyes were luminous and adoring and hungry, but he hesitated.

_What the fuck?_ The wolf-bitch had been silent throughout our reunion, but found her voice over the delay in the action. _What's he waiting for?_

I felt the by-now-familiar and finally welcome tug of the invisible cable, and I knew without a doubt what he needed from me. I reached up and cupped his beautiful, earnest face in my hands.

"Say it, baby," I urged gently. "Out loud."

In the life-altering light of his joyous smile, the last of the darkness in my soul fled forever.

"_Inchepoyeneimi," _he breathed, reverently. "I love you, Leah. Forever. Always."

While my body was clamoring to get on with business, my damned curious brain snagged on that foreign word again, just as it had the first time we'd made love.

"Is that what that word means?" I demanded. "Itchy … po … whatever. It means 'I love you?' "

He laughed fondly. "_Inchepoyeneimi,_" he corrected my atrocious pronunciation. "Yes, it means 'I love you.' Do you recall the first time I said it to you?"

I silently cursed myself for distracting him from the matter at hand. The last thing I wanted right now was a language lesson.

"Of course," I said hurriedly. "In my room, the first night you slept with me after we almost made love."

His white teeth flashed in a gloating grin. "No, that was not the first time." He laughed again at my confused expression and lowered his lips to my skin. His mouth moved down my collarbone to settle again on one—two, really—of his favorite portions of my anatomy.

"Think on it, my heart," he teased throatily. "It will come to you."

Nahuel the sexual multi-tasker was back and in fine form. As he licked, sucked and nipped at my breasts, his hands plunged under my skirt and whipped my panties down my legs. I should have been enjoying his talented hands. Instead, I wracked my brain, sifting through memories of times he'd spoken in his native tongue, times when I hadn't known what he was saying.

Suddenly, I gasped, and not because his clever fingers were buried between my thighs. I grabbed his head and forced it up so I could see his face and eyes.

"On the beach!" I accused. "The first time you kissed me and I pulled away. You said something and I couldn't really understand you. It was then, wasn't it?"

He pressed his lips together and remained silent, but the quiet joy dancing in his eyes said I was right.

I drew a shuddering breath, trying to process this newest revelation in a night that had already been filled with plenty of them. Belatedly, he seemed to realize that I might be less than thrilled with this one.

"Are you very angry with me?" he asked hesitantly.

For a full ten seconds, I _was_ pissed.

How much easier would our lives have been if I'd known from the beginning how he felt? We could have skipped weeks of angst and deprivation if he'd told me in plain English that he loved me. It might have inspired _me_ to admit sooner—to myself and to him—that I'd loved him, too, even then. But would I have believed him? Like Nahuel, at the time, I hadn't really thought myself worthy of love.

Two seconds more, and I realized I didn't give a flying fuck about any of that anymore.

Calm settled over me. We were together. He was mine, and I was his. He loved me, and because of that, I was finally whole.

I shook my head and smiled. "I love you, too, Nahuel."

I pulled him closer, and the obstacle of my huge belly made it graceless and awkward and utterly, totally perfect. Just before his lips claimed mine, I whispered the reminder of the only truth we would ever need to carry us through eternity:

"Always have. Forever."

THE END

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><p><em><strong>End<strong> **note**:__ I started "Season of the She Wolf" a little over a year ago, largely because I wanted to see if I still "had it." I've been a professional writer all my adult life, but left creative writing behind when I entered the working world. I figured writing fanfiction would be a good exercise and a learning experience. What I didn't expect was to connect with so many wonderful people through this story. _

_I know I've said it before, but it bears repeating yet again. I truly could not have done this without the support and brilliant editing help of my betas, Evelyn-Shaye and MunkeeRajah. Not only are they marvelous betas they are both damn fine people, too. I am deeply grateful to have met them._

_There are many others who deserve thanks: All the folks at Project Team Beta (where I found my betas) are also wonderful. Einfach_mich made my banner and pimped my story every chance she got. The folks who nominated and voted for SSW at the Sunflower Awards and She-Wolf Awards.  
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_Finally, you, the readers, made this experience very special for me. I wish I could do something to show each and every one of you how much I appreciate your support for this story. The best I can do is to say "thanks" and present you with the "Season of the She Wolf Reader Recognition Awards":  
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_Reader whose reviews always made me think: Inosolan  
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_Best penname (tie): If The Bunny Was Dead and TheTreeWasHappy_

_With me all the way (Readers who reviewed the very first chapter and have consistently given their support throughout the story.): brankel1, Eliza Douglas, connect2tjb_

_Reader who's become a friend: BellaEdwardLover1991_

_Reviewer who consistently cracked me up: Noble Korhedron_

_1000th reviewer: inuyashafanwhitehair_

_Well, that's it. As I said in the opening note, there will be an epilogue because there's someone you all have to meet before this story can truly be done. Lots of you knew that the chapter titles are all David Bowie song titles, but nj11 was the first reader to guess that, so she got to pick the baby's name from a short list. Her choice will be revealed in the epilogue.  
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_Thank you again for taking this journey with me!  
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	42. Everything's Alright

**_A/N: _**_I think there's someone we've all been waiting to meet. So, I'll save my ramblings and answering of questions for the end note. Twilight is the property of Stephenie Meyer._**  
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><p><strong>Epilogue – Everything's Alright<strong>

He barely feels the natural litter of the forest floor beneath his feet, or the passage of the pine-scented wind in his ears as he runs soundlessly through the trees. Loud and frantic, his heart pounds as if it will flee his chest. Fear, not exertion, propels its flight.

His half-vampire nature makes it impossible for him to tire or lose his breath, so shouting as he runs should pose no challenge. But he is barely able to force words out around the tight ball of terror burgeoning at the base of his throat.

"I will search by the river. You travel west."

He is unfamiliar with this territory; the object of their hunt has ranged far. He has greater faith in his mate's ability to track this game than in his own.

Without slowing the sinuous grace of her own run, she turns her huge, shaggy head in his direction. Her golden brown eyes show no hint of the alarm that is all but crippling him. He knows that confidence, not indifference, is the source of her calm.

She chuffs low in her chest—a sound of assent—and veers off through the trees. He watches her majestic lupine form bound smoothly away, and feels the all-too-familiar tug in his chest. Seven years as her husband, and still every moment spent without her seems a waste of breath to him.

Now, he must make good use of these minutes apart. It is unthinkable that they should fail. For all her strength—far greater than his—he knows his beloved could not survive the failure of this hunt.

He breaks through the tree line and gains the rocky bank of the wide, deep river.

Turning quickly in a circle, he scans the open space around the water in every direction, as far as his vampire-acute eyes can see. No living creature moves anywhere in his sight, and the only sound is the crashing of the river as it moves rapidly through its channel.

Further south, he knows, this waterway is flat and placid. Here, nearer its headwaters, the river moves quickly, dark and thick as it tumbles over huge rocks and several steep drops. Here, its rush is more than powerful enough to carry away a large animal that might fall into the water. If their quarry blundered into the river—

He forces the thought away, and for a moment, he is perversely glad his mate is not with him. Tears of angry frustration well in his teak eyes and his hands tremble shamefully. His weakness humiliates him, but he can count on the fingers of one hand the other times in his long existence when he has felt so frightened and powerless.

Turning again in a slow circle, he considers which way to head next. North or south along the river? Or back to rendezvous with his wife?

When a familiar scent drifts toward him, layered over the aromas of running water and rich, green life, intense relief weakens his knees; will alone keeps his legs beneath him. He turns eagerly toward the scent.

A gangly wolf pup steps carefully from a thicket of boisterously flowering bushes on the opposite side of the river. The animal advances to the water's edge, plops on its rump in the mud and tips its head to the side. Its low, questioning whine would have escaped a human's ears.

With his quarry found, fear is giving way to anger.

"Stay there," he commands, and he springs across the river in a single powerful leap. He lands only a few feet from the pup, but the small, light gray wolf shows no sign of intimidation at his proximity.

For a handful of heartbeats, he struggles with himself, unsure to which conflicting urge he should allow himself to succumb. Finally, he yields to his dominant instinct.

Falling to his knees in the mud, he enfolds the pup in his arms.

"Damn it, Adam," he growls, not unkindly. "Your mother and I have been worried sick. Where have you been?"

A surge of gentle warmth alerts him that his son is about to phase, but he does not release the boy. This is merely part of the amazing parcel of Adam's powers—the ability to phase while touching another without inflicting any harm.

It is a gift they discovered quite by accident, the first time the boy phased.

He remembers holding his son on his lap as Adam's mother tried to coax the child to eat steamed carrots. Unable to wriggle his chubby toddler body free of his father's arms, Adam had simply decided it was time to try something new.

Of course, when he found his arms full of wolf cub instead of child, he'd been so surprised that he had promptly released the infant-turned-wolf. The wobbly pup had happily scampered away.

"Nahuel!" Leah had shrieked at him, and he'd cringed, expecting her to berate him soundly for dropping the baby.

Instead, she had seized his empty arms and stretched them out before him, twisting the limbs this way and that. Other than the old puncture scars near the bend of his elbows, his skin was smooth as always.

He'd been bewildered by her reaction.

"What is it, ñi piuque?"

"You're fine," she gasped in wonder. "Holy shit, he phased while you were touching him and you're not hurt at all!"

Of course, Carlisle and Jacob had spent maddening hours interviewing him about the incident, dissecting every fragment of minutiae, developing a complex theory to explain how Adam's abilities functioned. Their ultimate conclusion, reached with the input of Eleazar and Edward, was that Adam was a shield unlike any other—with complete control over how others may, or may not, perceive him, even to the point of being able to obstruct strong aggressive talents. It was how he broke Joham's hold over Leah that long-ago night in Denali. It is how he managed to stay hidden today from his parents.

Each day of parenting Adam brings new surprises—from the shock of having a son, rather than the daughter they had expected, to his disappearance from their home this morning before breakfast, leading his parents on a wild goose chase.

Like his mother, Adam Harry Clearwater never does what his father expects.

He feels the child's spindly, human-shaped arms loop around his neck and grip tightly.

"I'm sorry, Papa," the boy says in his high voice, sweeter than birdsong. "I didn't mean to scare you and Mommy."

He pushes back to study his child's small face. Wide, round eyes the exact same deep, rich black as Leah's, regard him solemnly. Coppery skin a shade darker than her complexion sparkles oh-so-faintly in the late afternoon sun. He sees only traces of himself in the boy—in the curve of his lips and the glossy sheen of his dark hair—and it has always pleased him immensely that his son most resembles his beloved.

"Why did you wander away?" he asks, gentling his voice more easily now that his terror has passed.

The boy's lower lip pushes out stubbornly—a habit he echoes from his mother. He shakes his head.

"Don't wanna say."

He rarely loses his temper with the boy, so he has no difficulty restraining his annoyance now.

"Adam, why will you not tell me?"

The child's jutting lower lip begins to quiver and his luminous, bottomless eyes shimmer with tears.

"You'll be mad at me."

He cups the boy's treasured face in his hands and with his thumbs gently wipes away the tears that spill over.

"I promise I will not be angry."

Adam's eyebrows climb his small, smooth brow.

"You're _already_ mad at me," the child accuses, tone infused with the indignation of innocence at his father's apparent fib.

He sighs.

"I was at first," he concedes, mentally chastising himself for being verbally bested by a person who has inhabited this planet nearly a hundred and fifty-five years fewer than he. "But only because I was very frightened when I could not find you."

Adam considers this.

His breath catches in wonder at the play of thoughts so clearly written on the small face and in the huge eyes.

"So you're not mad anymore?"

He nods firmly, and rocks back to sit on his heels. His grip slides down the boy's arms until he holds both small hands in his. He squeezes them gently before releasing Adam. Reaching up, he unshoulders the pack he has carried, produces a bottle of water, uncaps it and hands it to the child.

"I am no longer angry. I am very happy to have found you and that you are alright."

Adam drinks greedily.

From the pack, he unfolds a pair of shorts. Holding them open near Adam's feet, he gestures for the boy to step into them. When the small feet clear the leg openings, he draws the shorts up the boy's legs and settles them low around his waist, before helping him into a T-shirt.

A small, clever smile curves the child's rosy lips. "I love you, Papa," he offers slyly.

A wave of powerful adoration swamps him so completely that he knows if he does not regain control of this discussion, it will end with the boy not being chastised at all. This would not please Leah. Truly, if the boy ever finds out how profoundly and completely his parents love him, he will rule them with a tiny iron fist.

"I love you, too, Adam, but I still wish to know why you ran away into the forest."

The boy snorts through his nose—another of his mother's habits, one of the less appealing ones—and folds his arms across his narrow chest.

He regards the boy calmly and waits. Perhaps it is only by virtue of his superior age, but he is certain this is a contest he can win. Patience is not Adam's strong suit.

Finally … "Fine," the child mutters with ill grace. "I was mad."

He restrains a sigh. "Why were you angry?" he probes gently.

When he sees that the boy is again not ready to answer, he decides to distract him with motion. He reshoulders the pack, stands and lifts Adam in his arms. The boy wraps around his chest, legs twine around his waist, arms around his neck, little hands gripping the long braid it has taken him seven years to regrow. He bounds back across the river smoothly. Still carrying the child, he darts back into the trees, allowing the psychic tether that ties him to his beloved to draw them both toward Adam's mother.

While he runs, his vampire-quick mind allows him to evaluate and eliminate a range of possible sources for his son's pique. It takes him only a fraction of a second to settle on one he feels is the most likely.

"Is it because we are moving?"

The boy shakes his head, the cap of Adam's thick curls dancing against his chest. He feels as if each brush carves deep into his heart.

"No, I understand why we have to leave North Carolina," he says. "Grandpa Carlisle explained it real good. He said people are going to start noticing that you and Mommy and everyone else don't get older."

With the most plausible possibility discounted, he broaches a second theory.

"Is it because Ahlia and the other children won't be coming with us?"

While Adam's growth has followed the curve of a traditional human child, the vampire-human hybrid children have not. Like Renesmee and himself, they have matured rapidly, leaving Adam behind. Perhaps the boy is angry and sad to lose so many playmates at once.

"No, they're all so much older than me that they're not fun anymore. They're really kinda boring now."

He frowns. Now he is at a loss. Belatedly, he remembers that trying to guess Adam's motivations is often as frustrating and fruitless a task as trying to convince Leah to curb the profanity from her speech when in the presence of their son.

He has no other recourse than to voice his question as a direct demand.

He easily jumps a fallen log and continues west toward the area where Leah ranges.

"Adam, you will tell me right now what has you so angry that you ran off into the woods."

"Fine!" The boy gripes again. "I'm mad at Pire, okay?"

He stumbles for only the second time in his long existence and nearly drops the boy—again.

He catches himself before he falls, and for long seconds, speech eludes him. Hearing his own mother's name spill from his son's mouth is nothing short of shocking. His mouth feels dry, and a watery discomfort deep in his gut harkens his memory to a time long past, when he vomited outside that accursed barn.

Adam's face is turned up to his, and the boy's eyes are wide, his small lips trembling. He realizes he is frightening his son. The child can hear his racing heart and is singularly adept at reading emotion on adult faces.

Struggling to slow his heart rate and keep his voice as calm as possible, he forces the words out.

"Who is Pire?"

Now chagrin supersedes the worry in Adam's dark eyes. The boy speaks slowly and cautiously, as if revealing a secret that he is not sure his father can keep.

"The baby in Mommy's tummy."

If he had still been moving, he would have tumbled to the ground. To be safe, he lowers his son to stand before him. Then he kneels in front of the boy, putting them at eye level with each other and ensuring he will not further frighten the child if his legs give out in shock.

"There is a baby in Mommy's tummy?"

His voice is a touch higher than normal, but he is pleased that none of the howling confusion raging in his head is leaking from his lips.

Adam nods gravely. "Yah."

It does not even occur to him to doubt the accuracy of his son's assertion; the child has a way of knowing things. Once, this revelation might have driven a shiv of betrayal through his heart. Now, he knows better. Knows his beloved better. And there can be only one reason why she has said nothing to him of this.

"Does Mommy _know_ there is a baby in her tummy?"

The boy nibbles his lower lip reflectively. "Not yet. Pire doesn't want her to know yet."

He is grateful he is kneeling. Taking his son's hands again, he draws the warm little body into his arms.

"Pire is able to hide from Mommy?"

Adam nods. "Yah. She's real small, so Mommy doesn't know she's there."

Small enough to go unnoticed but developed enough to be capable of framing the desire to remain hidden? How is this possible? But then, how is Adam possible? How is he, himself, possible?

"Why does Pire want to hide?"

The child's eyes are sorrowful and wise. "She thinks you won't like her."

He is aghast. This revelation births so many questions his half-vampire mind is having difficulty juggling them all.

He knows he cannot simply ask his son to explain. Adam is a brilliant seven-year-old, but still, he possesses only a child's capacity for relaying information. He knows from weary experience he will have to plumb the answers he needs by asking just the right series of specific questions.

"Why does she believe that?" he queries, carefully.

"She heard what you said on my birthday."

Anger boils behind his eyes, but now it is wholly directed inward.

Two weeks past, Adam celebrated his seventh birthday with a party at the Cullen mansion. He recalls a conversation with Jacob and Renesmee, who have decided to start their own family. With Leah tucked under his arm, he'd joked that nothing in his existence had ever frightened him more than the prospect of becoming a father. He has no doubt this is the offense to which Adam refers.

His thoughtlessness has again hurt someone he loves—for already he loves this mysterious, hidden child with an intensity that once would have left him shaken and desperate for escape.

But self-recrimination will not help him gain the information he needs to set this right for his family. He gently probes again.

"How do you know these things, Adam?"

The boy blinks at him sleepily. His bedtime is fast approaching, and the day's jaunt has surely tired his little body. Adam slips a thumb into his mouth and says nothing.

Gently, he pulls the boy's thumb out. "Does Pire talk to you?"

"Yah."

He struggles to contain his amazement, and if his mate were here, she would surely know of his internal battle from the slight tremble of his lips.

"How does she talk to you?"

Adam taps his index finger to his forehead. "In here. She can do lotsa stuff, like me, only more. You know?"

His heart quells at this information. He is proud of his son, in awe of his abilities, but he also fears that fate will one day demand much of Adam in payment for his many gifts. How much greater a burden will this new child face if her abilities exceed Adam's? Anguish and fear for his children hold him silent for long seconds.

Adam breaks his reflection with a quiet, tentatively voiced question. "You gonna tell Mommy?"

He smiles gently. "She has the right to know, don't you think?"

The boy nods sharply. "That's what I told Pire. That's why we fought." He considers for a moment. "Well, part of why, anyway."

It is the opening he needs to plate another question before the child. "Why is it that Pire talks to you and no one else?"

Adam rolls his eyes in disgust. Clearly, this question is beneath contempt, but the child deigns to answer it anyway.

"I'm her brother," he says, drawing out the word irksomely. "Who else is she gonna talk to?"

"Who indeed?" he agrees, suppressing the laughter he is sure would offend Adam. "And why do you call her Pire? Is it because you know it was my mother's name?"

Now genuine anger colors the boy's small, soft face, and he wonders if he has unknowingly put it there with some perceived blunder.

"Pire picked that name," he says darkly. "She heard you say it to Mommy or something and she liked it, so she picked it. I told her it was stupid for her to pick a name."

He blinks. This is a lack of charitableness uncharacteristic of Adam.

"Why is it stupid?"

"Because …" Adam shouts, flapping his small arms in frustration that his father is apparently as dim as his unborn sibling. "… she doesn't even know if she's really a girl. She thinks she is, but how would she know? I mean, Grandpa Carlisle could tell with his ulta-sounding machine, but how's he gonna know to check Mommy's tummy and take the picture if Pire won't let anyone know she's in there?"

He fights for a moment more before finally giving in to the euphoric laughter that has been boring through to the surface from the second he realized he is to be a father again. Howling gleefully, he springs to his feet, snatches Adam in his arms, and tosses the boy high into the air above his head three times. By the second toss, the child is laughing madly, too, and all the world is perfect.

On the fourth toss, he surprises Adam by hugging him tightly to his chest and smothering the boy's small face with kisses.

"Ewww, Papa! Vampire spit!"

He snarls, pulling his lips gruesomely back from his teeth while crossing his eyes. Adam shrieks in feigned terror, then claps appreciatively at his father's acting prowess.

When the child's giggles subside enough for the sleepiness around the edges of Adam's eyes to take firmer hold, he presses a final lingering kiss to the boy's forehead.

"I love you, Adam," he whispers against his child's warm, slightly sweaty skin. "Thank you for sharing this secret with me."

"You're welcome," Adam replies, yawning widely in his face—a reminder that the boy left the house this morning before brushing his teeth. The sour-little-boy aroma is the sweetest scent he has ever known.

He cradles his son close and begins walking through the forest again. A pulse of strength and love surges into his heart from the invisible tether that binds him to the source of his soul. His mate is near.

"Let us find your mother. She will be very excited to see you. And to hear your news."

* * *

><p><em><strong>End note: <strong>That, gentle readers, is the happiest, happily ever after I could think of for Leah and her vamp-boy. I hope you agree._

_My beautiful betas MunkeeRajah and Evelyn-Shaye need thanking again, so I'm on record right now as saying there just aren't enough superlatives in the English language to adequately express how awesome they are. I promise to keep writing more so that we never have to go a month without talking!  
><em>

_If you're wondering about Adam's name, nj11 (the reviewer who figured out the Bowie titles first) picked it from a short list I provided. We both liked the name Adam for Leah and Nahuel's son because not only is it a cool name, but it's appropriate given that he is the first of his kind - the offspring of a vampire-human hybrid and a shape-shifter.  
><em>

_Several readers have asked if I'll be leaving the fandom (NO!) or if I'll write more (YES!). I think it's safe to say I'm hooked. I have ideas for several more stories rattling around in my head, including a few Bella-Edward stories (I've always confessed to being a B/E girl at heart). I'll have a few outtakes for SSW from Nahuel's POV, and it feels like Seth isn't done with me yet, either so he may be getting his own story at some point. And somewhere in all that, I've got to find time to work on a fantasy novel that's been playing through my head in bits and pieces since I was a kid.  
><em>

_On the immediate horizon, I'm taking part in the Project Team Beta back-to-school fundraiser because it's the least I could do for the people who brought me together with my betas! I'll be contributing a B/E one-shot and it will be quite a scorcher. Bella is a best-selling novelist who faces the challenge of her career: writing a great sex scene when she's never had great sex. Bet you can guess who helps her out with the whole "writing what you know" theory! You get to read it and a bunch of other stories by some of the best writers in the fandom by making a donation. Head over to back-to-school-fundraiser/ (remove the spaces and replace the "dot" with ".") to contribute.  
><em>

_Also, I'm supporting a fund-raising effort by MunkeeRajah to help students learn to read in Alaska. You can help too by going to http : project/storyworks-magazine-subscriptions /817341/  
><em>

_Part of me feels a real sense of accomplishment to have brought this story to fruition. Part of me is sad to leave Leah and Nahuel behind. All of me is profoundly grateful to have had this experience and to have met so many wonderful people because of it. Thanks to each and every one of you for reading this story and reaffirming my faith that love of reading and the written word is alive and thriving in the 21st century. To paraphrase my first professional mentor, a crusty old newspaper man who really did keep a bottle of bourbon in the bottom drawer of his desk: "It ain't thumbs that sets us apart from the lower animals, kids. It's the written word."  
><em>

_Until we meet again, take care and God bless.  
><em>

_Vivienne (Evelyn) _

_07-09-2012  
><em>


	43. Outtake  The Taking

**_A/N:_**_ Hi folks! Miss me? __Okay, I am probably selling out shamelessly here. This is unbeta'd and I'm posting it now so I can make a cheap plea that if you liked SSW - and this outtake - to head over to The Lemonade Stand ( .net - and no that is not a typo) and vote for Season of the She Wolf as fic of the week. Thanks so much to Obsmama for recommending my story, and to anyone else who also rec'd it. This is actually the most polished portion of a much longer outtake, which I will actually get beta'd and posted as soon as possible. This outtake occurs "off curtain" in chapter 20, "As the World Falls Down." It's been a while since that chapter was fresh, so if you don't recall what happened in it, you might want to re-read it to get a handle on what's transpiring here. And, if you've somehow missed them, check out my profile for the first three outtakes._**  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>The Taking<strong>

He wants the shape-shifter _gone_.

The lout has done nothing but eat—his enormous, filthy feet propped on Sue's pristinely polished coffee table—since his arrival three hours ago. The mongrel has already devoured half of the chocolate chip muffins he'd intended to serve Leah for breakfast tomorrow, an entire bag of Seth's favorite snack crisps, two large bottles of sugary soft drink, and all the roast remaining from last night's dinner.

Truly, the hound must harbor some intestinal parasite that drives his out-sized appetite. Not even Seth consumes this much.

Because the man is mated to Jacob's sister, he has not yet thrown him out on his ear. But the flowers will arrive soon and he does not care to answer the inevitable questions the oaf will field if he is present to witness the delivery.

Worse than the fool's gluttony are his attempts at discourse.

"Soooo," the churl says, rolling his buttocks to one side on the sofa to accommodate the emission of yet another flatulent outburst. "You and Leah, huh? How's that working out for you?"

The shape-shifter needs to go. Now.

"She makes me very happy."

"No shit?" The wretch frowns. "I mean, she's always been such a cast-iron bitch, ya know?"

No. He does not know.

"It's kinda hard to wrap my head around the idea of her getting all lovey-dovey. Especially with a half-vamp. No offense."

He grinds his teeth together and flattens his palms, rubbing them across his jeans-clad thighs. He will not leave his chair. He will _not_ put his hands on the idiot. He will _not_ remove the buffoon's empty, vacuous head from his broad, bull-like shoulders.

Instead of the stream of profanities he wishes to expel, he lies, through tight lips: "None taken."

"I mean, I can totally see why you'd want to tap that," the cretin continues, oblivious to how precariously his life teeters on a razors edge. He stuffs a handful of crumbling potato crisps into his offensive orifice and mumbles around the mouthful. "She's got a rockin' bod. I just don't know how you get past her mouth."

The ringing of the moron's mobile phone saves his life.

" 'Lo?" Crumbs spill from his mouth and down his bare chest at his exhalation. Doesn't the mongrel own a shirt? "Hey, Sue! How's it going?"

He looks up and grins like the halfwit he is.

"Yeah, he's here. We're doing fine. Just shootin' the breeze."

The dolt leans forward, hand extended, offering the phone. "Here. Sue wants to talk to you."

He accepts the phone gingerly, avoiding contact with the shape-shifter's greasy fingers. He rises and steps toward the kitchen, casting a hasty apology over his shoulder. "Please, excuse me."

Once in the kitchen, he continues straight through the room, opens and exits the back door, and does not halt until he has put the house, backyard and the outbuilding between himself and the lackwit.

"Sue," he greets. "Please say that you are coming home soon. I cannot endure Paul's … _company_ … much longer."

Her merry, affectionate laughter salves the burning itch in his palms, the physical craving to latch his fingers around the fool's meaty throat and squeeze until his eyes burst from their sockets.

"Oh, Nahuel! He's not that bad."

It pains him to correct her. "Yes, I fear he is."

She laughs again, obviously discounting his assessment of the werewolf's diminished mental and social capacities. He sees no value in pursuing this line of debate, and so he changes the subject to one he much prefers.

"How is Leah? Is she pleased with the gown Alice has selected for her?"

Her voice bubbles with happiness. "Wait until you see her in this dress! She's just stunning in it!"

He is confused. Why does she sound surprised? Of course Leah will be beautiful in the garment. She is breath-taking in anything or nothing at all. Even the mannish, shapeless clothing she seems to prefer can do nothing to conceal her loveliness.

"Is she happy?"

"Yes, I think she is. Sometimes it's hard to tell with Leah, though."

"Does she suspect?"

Her voice drops to a whisper. "Not a thing." She titters. "Is everything ready?"

Frustration slips into his voice. "No. The flower delivery will arrive at any moment and Paul will not leave. I do not want his intrusion. How can I make him depart?"

"Just tell him the truth—that you've planned a surprise for Leah and you prefer to give it to her in private."

He is dubious. It seems far too straight-forward an approach for the obtuse dolt, but he trusts her advice.

"Very well, I will try. When will you be home?"

"In about an hour, I think," she replies, excitement rippling through her lilting voice. Then, her tone turns maternal and caring: "Don't be nervous, sweetheart. Everything will be perfect. You'll see."

He thanks her, bids her farewell and ends the call before returning to the living room. The simpleton has not moved from the couch and is now using the remote control device to scan through the limited channel selection on the electronic fossil the Clearwaters call a television. He appears to be settling in.

"Sue and Leah are on their way home. They will arrive momentarily. You are welcome to return to your family now."

The dunce waggles his tuberous head. "No can do, buddy-boy. My orders are to stay right here until Leah's home."

He grinds his teeth so forcefully that venom floods the back of his mouth. He swallows. And tries again, this time using Sue's suggested tactic.

"Paul, I have planned a surprise for Leah. I would prefer to give it to her in private."

The boor's eyes widen. A lascivious smirk oozes across his foolish face.

"Oh, ho, ho! I get you, man! Planning to give her a little somethin', somethin', eh?" He seems to be considering the request. "Well, maybe …"

He has no idea why the shape-shifter's decrepit intellect has inferred a sexual connotation to his simple statement, but he senses the potential for victory.

"Yes, exactly. Something special. And private. Very private."

Still, the dolt wavers. "And you say Leah'll be home real soon?" His voice is skeptical, yet hopeful, as if he would like to be convinced he is free to leave.

Quickly, he recalls something Sue had briefly mentioned—that the buffoon and Jacob's sister have been attempting to conceive a fourth child. While it is disturbing to imagine this moron passing on his genetic material to a new generation, perhaps this could be the imbecile's incentive to remove himself from the Clearwater home.

"Very soon," he confirms. Then, adds encouragement. "Surely, Rachel would be pleased if you return earlier than she expects."

The vulgar smile reappears on the oaf's face. "Yeah, I'll bet she would."

It takes little more than a promise to lock the door behind him to get the reprobate out of the house.

Scant minutes after the mutt's departure, the doorbell rings. The flowers have arrived, and the delivery woman carries them into the house—bouquet after bouquet. Baskets and vases, pots and bowls. When the courier finishes and leaves, he concludes that it is altogether too much. Sue has grossly overestimated the amount of floral decoration required.

He knows that love and excitement were her motivation, so he feels no ire. He is only uncertain where to place the myriad of blooms, or what is to be done with them once Leah has accepted his proposal.

He pauses in his efforts to arrange the flowers, withdrawing from his pocket the solitaire he intends to offer her. He slips the ring on his index finger—it cannot pass beyond his second knuckle—and holds it up to the light. He admires the fiery colors that dance in the depths of the clear stone.

He is eager to place it on her hand. Eager to hear her say "yes." To have all who see the ring on her finger know that she belongs to him as surely as he belongs to her.

His mind wanders further and now he imagines her in a long ivory dress of delicate lace, the type of gown his mother would have worn for her own wedding more than a century ago if his sire had not stolen her purity—and her life. On the heels of this daydream, a second fantasy rises in his mind, unbidden: Leah, glowing and soft, her breasts heavy and her stomach rounded by the seed that has taken root inside her—_his_ seed.

It shakes him to his core how viscerally the image appeals to him.

He is appalled at himself. Truly, he is a monster of the worst kind to fantasize, for even a moment, about an event that would so surely result in the agonized, bloody death of she whom he treasures most.

He is so paralyzed by horror and self-loathing that he neither hears nor scents the approach of the vampires that burst through the front door. Two cold granite bodies slam into him before he is able to move a muscle. The solitaire clatters to the floor, lost amid the debris of the vases his attackers have desecrated.

_They have come._

It is his first thought. His second is that he will fight, for now he has more reason to than ever before. He will not be parted from her.

He will _not_.


End file.
